To Build A Home
by Wolf126
Summary: "I love you. And I want you here . . . with me." Follow the story of Commander Nolan Shepard and Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, two lonely souls in need of the respite that one can only offer the other amid a world of chaos and destruction. A fluffy/angsty (somewhat contradictory, I know) novelization of the Shepard/Tali romance in ME3. Rated M to be safe.
1. Everything's Eventual

_Character(s): Shepard & Tali (although Garrus does make minor appearances every now and then 'cause he's just that awesome)._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. BioWare and EA claim the realm of Mass Effect . . . If I did own it, however, just know that I would have made a happy ending option available. Maybe with enough War Assets or something . . ._

_Readers: Let everyone be aware that this is the first fanfic that I have ever posted, though I have dabbled extensively in others. In light of the recent endings to Mass Effect 3, this is my tribute to my Shepard as he appeared to me and Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. My intention here is to flesh out their romance a bit and make it more dynamic. Whether I continue this will be based upon the kind of response I get, which I hope will be good . . . *my fingers are crossed* So, please, no flames. Constructive criticism is welcome._

_For those interested in this story, just know that I plan on updating it every Friday. :-)_

_The title, and the overall theme of the story, is based upon the song "To Build A Home," by The Cinematic Orchestra. Truly, it fits Shepard / Tali. And might I just suggest checking out the YouTube video that gave me the inspiration for this piece? The video itself is by TheBroomKing, just add this link to the end of the YouTube home-page -__ /watch?v=eyVjJbD9I7Q_

* * *

**Chapter One :**

**Everything's Eventual**

**oOoOo**

"Our newest admiral has also volunteered to offer technical expertise . . ." offered Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tombay meaningfully. As she spoke, the door behind the quarian admirals opened, and Commander Nolan Shepard couldn't help but be impressed with her timing. Otherwise absorbed, he tore his eyes away from the dreadnought's holographic schematics in order to acknowledge their new-arrival, who was presumably the quarians' newest admiral. Their eyes met, silvery orbs upon emerald-green. His eyes widened.

It was Tali.

She stood impressively in the doorway, and Shepard felt an immediate rush of relief upon seeing her safe and unharmed. As his breath caught in his throat, all of his previous concerns regarding her well-being instantly evaporated, and he found that he could feel whole again. It was a funny thing really because, ever since the quarian admirals first boarded his ship, he'd been desperately trying to find an opening in which to ask Shala'Raan about her adoptive niece.

"Shepard," she said by way of salutation. He froze; it was more formal than he'd like, but he appreciated the smallest trace of relief in her synthesized voice. In it, he understood that she was glad to see him, glad that he was here, and that was all that mattered.

She seemed to be aiming for a professional reunion, and so he did likewise. "Tali," he breathed, a little _too_ relieved. If the quarian admirals noticed anything odd about this exchange, however, they certainly didn't show it. He was unexpectedly uncomfortable, and crossed his arms over his chest; they positively _itched_ to take her into them and to never let her go again. After all, the past several months had proven the hardest separation of his life; never before had he felt this strongly for anybody, and his feelings were only intensified by the war that raged all around them.

Truthfully, he'd been looking forward to this moment for weeks. Citadel reports about the Migrant Fleet's movements had left him confused and worried for her safety. Of course, he'd always known that she would be with her people; she'd told him as much when she first left the _SR-2 Normandy_. Besides, she _loved_ her people, and he entertained no illusions about just how far she'd go for them. And all this time, while he was rescuing Primarchs on Palaven, curing genophages on Tuchunka, and foiling Cerberus's dastardly plots on the Citadel, he'd been internally debating whether or not he should locate the Migrant Fleet and see for himself if she was okay. Now, he found that his reward was well worth the wait.

She was alive and she was okay. More than okay, actually; she'd been given a goddamn _promotion_. Still, he was hurt by her lack of communication when he was all but obsessing over her safety. A simple message letting him know that she was okay would have sufficed. And he would have rushed to her people's rescue if only she'd contacted him sooner.

He could have stared at her forever, his eyes drowning in the intricate swirls on her environ-suit and the violet shawl her mother had given to her before she'd died, but knew that such a thing was not in any of their cards right now. As it was, the decks seemed stacked against them. He had work to do, and so did they. Every second they wasted here would only cost more quarians their lives.

So, it was with reluctance in his heart that he finally tore his eyes away from her (which was more difficult than he originally thought it'd be) and instead met Shala'Raan's softly-glowing eyes through her polarized visor. He couldn't be sure, of course, but he thought that detected a small, imperceptible smile behind her jade mask.

Shala'Raan likely believed that this reunion would be a welcome reprieve for the two of them amid such chaos and destruction because they were such _good friends_, and had been that way ever since meeting upon her Pilgrimage and his hunt for the rogue Spectre, Saren Arterius. She likely remembered how disconsolate Tali had been when she finally returned to the Fleet with his geth data in hand, mourning both the loss of the _SSV Normandy_ and her captain, the first human Spectre, Commander Shepard. How Tali had _stayed_ disconsolate for two entire years, which was well beyond the normal grieving period for quarians, following orders mechanically and without any real interest in what she was doing. Shala remembered thinking that this wasn't the same Tali she loved as a daughter, the one who'd set out on her Pilgrimage so many months ago. At the same time, she herself had been deeply concerned; Rael, on the other hand, had been rather . . . upset. She wasn't thinking about the Fleet, he'd said and the disappointment in his voice was palpable.

Of course, that had all changed when she coincidentally ran into Shepard on Freedom's Progress; when she returned, she'd suddenly had a spark of determination in her eyes that had previously been absent. And then she'd left her people as soon as her mission on Haestrom was complete and joined Shepard's crew yet again, to her father's consternation. He simply couldn't understand why she trusted an alien, especially one who worked for _Cerberus_, more than she trusted one of their own people.

Then, the incident on the _Alerei_ happened, and Rael was killed, and . . . yes, Shala remembered how valiantly Shepard had defended her adoptive niece when no one else would. Not even her _real_ captain, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema. When Rael's body was cremated and his ashes scattered throughout the void of space, returned to the stars from whence all life came, it was not Han'Gerrel who stood by Tali's side, but Shepard, offering a shoulder to cry on. All of this only served to lead Shala to the most logical conclusion: Han'Gerrel had never really been her true captain at all; he'd merely been a rather poor replacement for Commander Shepard, who had doubled as a friend. In her heart, Tali would always remain a member of the Normandy's crew (as she'd certainly been branded as such). And that was okay. Even Shala could not doubt the allure of the first _good_ ship one belonged to, and it was simply a dream come true if that ship also had a reliable captain and crew. She would have preferred for Tali to remain with her people, where it was _safe_, but that was okay. Really. She knew that Tali could more than handle herself.

Little did she know that they'd become so much more in the months since her trial. Neither Shepard nor Tali, however, had any intention of letting her know because she would likely disapprove of their dangerous relationship. Having been regarded by the galaxy as one of the most untrustworthy species for several centuries had logically lead the post-Pilgrimage quarians to their own distrust of aliens, even if these aliens really were trying to help them (which was a rare thing in itself).

"Admirals," said Shepard decisively, "I'll ready a team to hit that dreadnought as soon as possible." Meanwhile, he was thinking an altogether different thing: _But I need to talk to her first. I need to know where we stand. I mean, a lot can change in six months . . ._

Neither Han'Gerrel nor Darro'Xen seemed particularly touched by his declaration. Zaal'Koris, however, appeared relieved, and Shala'Raan's eyes brightened immediately. When he looked for Tali so he could gauge her reaction, she seemed oddly neutral to his promise of aid, which only served to confuse him. He was doing this for her, wasn't he? For her people? He thought that she'd be enthusiastic; just as she always was whenever she threw herself into something new. Like, for instance, when he'd first brought her aboard the original Normandy, and he inwardly smiled at the pleasant memory. Her optimism, after all, had always been one of his favorite traits that she possessed, the way she could cling to hope even in the darkest of circumstances. And this optimism, enthusiasm, or whatever you wanted to call it, was infectious. She was well-liked aboard the Normandy for a reason, but no one liked her more than he did.

Shala'Raan respectfully bowed her head. "Thank you, Commander," she said. Their business concluded, the other admirals viewed this as a sign of dismissal and began to disperse. They would soon be needed on their own ships and not Shala'Raan's _Tombay_, which was the scouting vessel currently docked with the _SR-2 Normandy_. They wordlessly passed Tali on the way out, and she and Shala presented a pretty forlorn picture without the other three to round out their numbers.

Her body language fraught with gratitude, Shala'Raan turned to Shepard. "Truly, I am glad that you decided to help us, Commander," she said.

Shepard offered a small smile in return. It didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's no trouble at all," he told her sincerely. "And you're welcome to stay here in the War Room, Admiral. While I get the team ready, you can synch up the Normandy with all of your ships and private channels on one of these empty consoles." He paused, and his eyes flickered towards Tali. "If you need any help, I'm sure EDI would be more than willing to lend a hand."

He knew she was listening, knew that she was _always_ listening (How could she not be? In a way, they were _inside_ her, after all), so it didn't come as much of a surprise when she confirmed his suspicions. _"That is correct,"_ announced EDI over the Normandy's comms.

Shala, for her own part, was more surprised by his generosity than by the disembodied voice that suddenly filled the room. By letting her stay in a room full of delicate, possibly harmful, information about the forces he'd collected thus far, he was subtly extending an offer of trust. Such a thing being offered by an alien was shocking, to say the least. And in return, all he asked for was that the Normandy be patched into the rest of the Fleet so he could help them as much as he possibly could.

She was not only impressed with his sincerity, but with his kindness as well. He had treated them with nothing but since their embarking on his ship, and she was slowly beginning to understand why her adoptive niece preferred to follow this human rather than one of their own people. Shepard simply exuded confidence and determination, making him an excellent leader. He was much like Rael'Zorah or Han'Gerrel in that regard. His ship was another reason, she suspected; it was far more advanced than anything she'd ever seen and she, like many of her kind, absolutely craved an opportunity to glimpse the Normandy's engines. Maybe by studying the technology that powered the Normandy they could improve the functionality of their own outdated ships . . .

But like a true quarian, however, she abandoned this train of thought and focused upon the present. She nodded to show him that she had graciously accepted his offer, and said, "Of course, Commander."

He then focused upon Tali, who was anxiously awaiting her turn to be addressed. She still stood beside Shala and was nervously wringing her hands, which was an endearing gesture that he hadn't seen in a long, long time. The sight of it made him smile because, though she'd grown extensively since they'd first met and blossomed into an attractive woman, it showed that the naïve, insecure girl he'd first rescued on the Citadel was still in there somewhere.

"Could I speak to you for a minute, Tali? Outside?" he asked, nodding towards the exit. He offered a friendly smile as a way to show that there was nothing wrong, that he just wanted to catch up with an old friend. _An old friend I just so happen to harbor some more-than-friendly feelings for_, Shepard inwardly amended with a small sigh.

She nodded demurely. "Sure thing, Shepard," she said, and followed him out of the War Room and into the adjoining Conference Room. As he passed Shala'Raan, who had found an open console and was furiously typing some message to her crew via omni-tool, he realized that he'd been right all along.

Behind her visor, she _was_ furtively smiling.

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_Please, read and review to let me know what you think. I love random messages. :-)_


	2. Strange And Beautiful

_Hello, everyone. All right. So, I've decided that I'm going to try something new and switch perspectives with every chapter. Because the last chapter focused mostly upon Shepard's point of view, I'm going with Tali on this one. And don't worry, we will reach a point where this fic will earn its rating. Just have a little patience, please. I warn you: It won't be anything very graphic. _

_Also, I've changed up a little dialogue from the actual game so it flows better and reflects my Shepard without making him seem like he knows nothing about the galaxy he lives in. So, yes, I do realize that some of their dialogue wasn't actually said in-game. I did that on purpose._

_This chapter's title is based upon the song of the same name by Aqualung, which I think pretty much sums up Tali's feelings for Shepard in ME1 and ME2. If you don't believe me, go check it out. I swear it's pretty legit. :-)_

_As of the time I write this, I would like to formally acknowledge Tattoo'd and treehuger90 for leaving me such wonderful comments, although I am particularly fond of my intestines where they are. Those two totally made my day. :D_

_Note: Tali doesn't know that Mordin is dead yet. Just a heads-up for everyone in case it wasn't obvious enough._

* * *

**Chapter Two :**

**Strange And Beautiful**

**oOoOo**

Tali wordlessly followed Shepard into the adjoining Conference Room, where Mordin's lab had used to be. On her way through to the War Room, led by two _armed_ and talkative women, and barring the friendly hullo that Joker threw her way, she'd been surprised by the changes the Alliance had wrought upon the _SR-2 Normandy_. Once they'd left the bridge and CIC behind, she almost couldn't recognize it. Her first impression was that it contained a lot more clutter, and it seemed like the armory had been converted into some sort of storage area.

Still, thought of the elderly salarian caused her lips to curl into a small smile. He'd been very helpful when she'd confided in him her attraction to Shepard and asked for _one_ strong antibiotic, to which he'd simply loaded her arms with herbal supplements, immuno-boosters, and _several_ heavy-duty antibiotics. He'd also given her a lengthy lecture on the importance of responsibility and caution, which she'd taken in stride because that was his way of showing that he cared. Of course, she'd _blushed _something awful, but she'd taken it in stride all the same.

She was quickly brought out of her reverie, however, because the moment the closing door fully shielded them from the invasive eyes of Shala and several human crewmembers she didn't recognize, Shepard was already asking questions. She stifled a faint chuckle. In a way, she found his curiosity endearing. They'd bonded over his questions on the original Normandy as he asked questions about her culture and she asked questions about his during those long, sleepless nights they'd had. She because it was difficult to sleep when the ship ran so quietly, and he because he carried the burden of being humanity's first Spectre seriously, and he _needed_ to show everyone that humanity could be trusted with such crucial responsibilities.

He arched an eyebrow. "Admiral, huh?" he teased, sounding impressed. "Congratulations."

While he spoke, she noticed that he chose to keep his distance. She briefly experienced a flare of panic. After all, there was no telling if something had happened to disrupt the balance of their relationship. They would always be friends (she could guarantee that), but he might have met someone on Earth or finally realized that she wasn't . . . What exactly? Beautiful enough? Quite simply, _good_ enough? Maybe he'd grown tired of being unable to touch her or look upon her face whenever he wanted, grown tired of her weakened immune system and the risks that being together posed. Maybe he decided that he needed someone simply _better_. As she considered this, Miranda Lawson came to mind, and she grimaced. The thought of him being romantically involved with _that_ femme fatale absolutely gutted her.

She bowed her head. "It's mostly a formality," she modestly explained. Then, she shrugged. "I'm an expert on the geth." _And I'm my father's daughter . . . Which means that I was probably the most likely candidate. Keelah, he's been dead for over half a year, and I'm still living under his shadow. . . ._

Shepard, who was oblivious to her internal conflict, merely nodded. "That you are," he agreed with a small smile.

Idly, she moved to the window and looked outside. Somewhere beyond that great void of space, lit with intermittent stars and worlds, her people were being killed over the skies of their home-world. The very thought made her heart ache. Especially so when she considered the fact that this was exactly what her father would have wanted. He and Han'Gerrel were _always_ supportive of any plans to attack the geth and reclaim Rannoch, even if there would be major losses. Now, in hindsight, she realized that reclaiming their home-world was all he'd ever wanted and that he would have been wrong to risk so many lives.

She forced a chuckle. "I'm glad you're here," she told him affectionately. Having him here made everything infinitely better. He _would_ help them and the Migrant Fleet would be saved. There was no doubt about it now that he'd agreed to help. He'd accomplished the impossible before; he could certainly do this, too. Keelah, because of his leadership, they'd survived a _suicide_ _mission_ in which everyone had expected to die. _He can do this_, she told herself firmly._ I know he can._

She heard him stir behind her. Probably just making himself comfortable.

"So, why didn't you tell me?" he asked suddenly, and he was audibly hurt. "I would've helped sooner."

She smiled warmly upon realizing that his hero-complex had remained firmly intact. She highly suspected that he would have only _come sooner_ for her sake alone, which just made her appreciate him all the more. She liked to think, however, that he'd help her people with or without her because it was the right thing to do. Because the _right thing_ was all he ever did.

She turned around and faced him. He was relaxing against a glass panel, and the word 'NORMANDY' shone like a beacon behind him. His eyes had softened, lost some of their hard edge he'd had while addressing the admirals, and he was looking at her expectantly.

"Thanks, but . . . I knew you had your own problems," she said and lowered her head apologetically. "I'm sorry about Earth."

When she mentioned Earth, he frowned and his emerald-green eyes darkened.

No one understood his current plight better than her people. No one was more sympathetic to his loss. Humanity's loss of Earth still stung because it was recent, but she'd lost her home-world centuries ago, before she'd even been born, and that realization _still_ ached. So, yes, she understood exactly how he felt. Still, she decided that it would be better to steer this conversation elsewhere. No one liked to dwell on lost home-worlds, after all.

_We're so alike_, she realized suddenly. _He grew up on star-ships and space-stations . . . had militaristic parents . . . just like me. And now neither of us have home-worlds._

"We've got the largest fleet in the galaxy," she said, voice full of resolution. "If you can help us, we'll hit the Reapers with everything we've got." She paused and visibly deflated, her hands clenching into fists. "Or however much is left from this _stupid_ war."

He cocked his head curiously. "I thought you'd support the invasion."

Surprisingly, he didn't sound angry. Just acceptant. Probably because he couldn't exactly blame her for hating the geth. After his meeting Legion, however, she knew that he'd disapprove of any plans to attack the race of synthetics. Especially now that he knew that they could be reasoned with, that they _weren't_ simply mindless killing-machines. She briefly recalled everything he'd said during her trial. He'd known then that the quarians were in too delicate a position to launch an invasion, and here they were, doing exactly that. And because of the Reapers, they were _losing_.

_Keelah, why couldn't they have just listened? If they had only listened for one single moment, then we wouldn't be in this mess . . ._

"No," she said shortly. "After talking to Legion, I thought maybe there was a chance for peace." She shrugged just to show how little had actually resulted from _that_ idea. It was true, though; she, Shala, and Zaal'Koris had _tried_ to avoid conflict altogether.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "So why help them?" he asked, nodding towards the War Room and, presumably, Shala.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm an admiral," she told him helplessly. "People look to me for guidance, and public disagreement would divide the fleet."

Inwardly, she cursed Han'Gerrel and Darro'Xen. This was all their faults. Han'Gerrel had always harbored a vendetta against the geth, and Darro'Xen welcomed any opportunity to test out her gadgets upon them. They were outnumbered, but, regardless, had held more sway over the fleet than Shala, Zaal'Koris, and herself combined, although she'd had very little to begin with as she had no ships and no crew under her command. And then the damned Conclave had caved as well . . . giving them their _blessing_. . . .

She was startled when she noticed that Shepard had straightened, that he was actually _approaching_ her. He stopped only when they were mere inches apart and Tali felt her heart flutter wildly.

_Shepard, what are you—?_

"And what about us?" he asked suddenly, gesturing towards the space that remained between them. "Would _us_ being together divide the fleet, Tali?"

She was stunned. All this time, she'd been waiting for an opportunity to allude to their relationship so she could see where they stood, and his impatience had led to his quickly throwing all of that protocol out the window. He was never one to "beat around the bush," so the human saying goes. She was quickly beginning to appreciate his impatience, which was a trait in which humanity excelled and outshone all other species.

"No," she stammered quickly. "Well . . . _possibly_. I don't know."

He frowned. Obviously, he did not find this answer to his liking. Knowing as much as he did about how deeply she cared for her people, he probably intended for there to never be an ultimatum, that he'd make that choice for her long before she ever had a chance to do so herself because he loved her and, more than anything, he wanted her to be happy with her people.

He should have known by then, however, that she'd willingly resign from her position if that meant she could be with him. She'd even allow herself to be exiled because, Keelah, she _loved_ this man and she never wanted to leave him again. It would certainly pain her to be exiled, but it was a pain she could at least endure with him at her side. The opposite could not be said or even considered.

_Being with him was always worth the risks . . . Worth getting sick, worth resigning, worth exile, and even worth dying. . . . if it ever came to that, of course._

As this was no place to discuss their relationship, she hurriedly changed the topic. "But right now, I've got civilian ships taking fire. Can we keep this quiet . . . at least in front of the admirals?" She couldn't help the hint of supplication in her voice, and cursed herself for her own weakness. She needed to seem strong, independent, confident, if she was ever going to be an admiral worth following. Like her father. A leader. Someone like _him_.

He must have found her weakness endearing, however, because he grinned widely whilst she glowered. "Sure thing . . . Miss vas _Normandy_." The way he said her ship-name, rolling his tongue around it sensuously, quickly reduced her legs to nutrient paste.

_Bosh'tet . . ._

She positively hated how he could do this to her with one look, one line, one _word_. It was his way of claiming her, she knew and that knowledge filled her with a certain warmth whilst simultaneously leading her to her own undoing. Where once she'd been saddled with that name because the Normandy was a human ship and because it discredited her for her trial; now it stood as a beacon of hope for the galaxy because the Normandy and its crew were all that stood in the way of the Reapers as they sought to unite the entire galaxy against them. She was proud to be a member of the Normandy's crew and that was one thing he had _always_ used to his advantage. Thus . . . _bosh'tet_. . . .

Well, she determined that his flirting with her would also lead to his own undoing as she decided to fight fire with fire. An impish grin spread across her face, hidden from his sight by her visor. She walked towards the War Room, sashaying her hips seductively, and as she passed him, she brushed against a certain part of his anatomy and heard him groan. It was so low, it might have been imaginary, but she just _knew_ that it was there.

_Keelah, if there's one thing I've learned from Miranda Lawson . . . then it's this._

"Thank you," she purred, positively pouring mischief into her words. "If you want to talk in _private_, maybe you could invite me up to your cabin?"

She entertained no illusions, and knew that it was already too late. He'd awakened something in her that had lain dormant for the past six months, and rendered her environ-suit unbearably tight and _much_ too hot. She craved the feel of his skin upon hers, and desperately wanted to touch him, caress his cheek and maybe even do a bit more, but she knew deep down that this was just not the right time. Especially when Auntie Shala was just outside the door . . . And Keelah, the embarrassment of getting caught in the act would be positively _mortifying_.

Grinning, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked upon her body appreciatively, in ways that made her toes curl. "Maybe I could," he agreed, and his eyes blazed with desire.

_So, he feels the same way then. Good._

She nodded her acknowledgment, inwardly pleased that he still wanted her in every sense of the word. She was pleased that he was still _hers._ She turned around as if she meant to return to the War Room, but stopped halfway there.

"And for the record . . ."

She turned around and winked at him slyly. "Still _totally_ worth it."

He moved his mouth, but no words came. He was rendered speechless by her sudden display of bravado in regards to their relationship, recklessly and shamelessly alluding to that night they'd shared prior to assaulting the Collector base, _when_ _her adoptive aunt was still in the_ _adjoining room_. A guilty sort of feeling pervaded the room, and neither of them wanted to know what Shala would say if she'd been caught.

She fled the scene of the crime almost immediately after those words left her mouth, feeling slightly guilty as she rejoined Shala. Almost like she was deceiving her adoptive aunt by not telling her the extent of her feelings for Shepard.

"Tali," said Shala suddenly, "could you pass along a message to Han for me, please? Just let him know that the Normandy will be joining our secure channels soon and that he should not block access."

Behind her visor, Tali was blushing furiously. "Oh! Um . . . Of course. . . ."

She opened her omni-tool immediately and set to work. She tried to clear her mind and focus on the impending mission, but somehow her thoughts kept returning to Shepard and how she'd missed him . . .

She hoped Shala wouldn't notice her sudden distraction and hazard a guess as to why . . . That was certainly _not_ a conversation that she was looking forward to.

* * *

_Please, read and review to let me know what you think. I mean, come on, I love random messages. And I might even acknowledge you in the next chapter. ;-)_


	3. The Song Remains The Same

_First off, I'm so sorry about the delay! This last weekend was so very busy and, for some reason, I could never get this chapter to a point where I was happy with it. I'm tired of striving for an impossible level of perfection, so I'll just post it as-is... I hope that the fact it's long makes up for the fact that it's late. :-)_

_All righty, so as I've said before, we will be switching perspectives between Shepard and Tali in this fic, with maybe one covering Garrus's perspective because he's such an awesome character. As such, we will be returning to Shepard's point of view in this chapter._

_Important Note: I cannot stress how important it is that anyone interested in this fic should listen to the song it is based upon, "To Build A Home" by The Cinematic Orchestra. Just by reading its lyrics, you will see what I have in store for Shepard and Tali at the end of this fic. Another thing I highly recommend is for people to pay a visit to my profile page, where I have other fics listed as 'canon' for this particular Shep's universe. Such fics include (1) _**Wishful Thinking**_, (2) _**Prometheus**_, and (3) _**Elevator Revelations**_. For best results, all of these should be read together._

_And as of the moment I write this, I would like to formally acknowledge Tattoo'd, DovahofStrunx6, Para-Cord, treehuger90, cromar21, and last but certainly not least, Hamster Giggels. As always, you guys/gals rock! Also, I'd like you to know that your threateningly lovely reviews are as equally scary as they are flattering! They certainly give me the incentive to finish this fic... because, if I don't, apparently I'm going to be hunted down, stabbed with forks (owww!), thrown into a car compactor (Heavy Rain much? LOL), and jump-rope will be played with my intestines.__ Eh... No pressure, right? ;-)_

_For those of you who are reluctant to leave Tali's perspective, just know that she'll be up for bat next and it'll be on the geth dreadnought. Playful banter will of course ensue. Yes! I know, we're finally getting out of the slow beginning. Plus, as I've said, this chapter was such a pain to write. Mostly my indirect thoughts on things with little to no action until the end. ;-)_

_Constructive criticism is welcome. Please, no flames. I am aware that this isn't my best work. It shall improve with the next chapter, I hope._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter Three :**

**The Song Remains The Same**

**oOoOo**

As one of the first things he did while on his way to his cabin, Nolan Shepard stopped by the main battery and told Garrus in _very_ specific terms (with little to no teasing in between) to suit up so they could infiltrate a geth dreadnought.

He was inwardly and secretly relieved when Garrus awarded him with the turian equivalent of a grin instead of his dreaded _"Can it wait for a bit? I'm in the middle of some calibrations,"_ which, Shepard assumed, was Garrus's way of letting him know that he wanted to be alone. Whether it was because of Palaven or because his friend wasn't quite optimistic about their chances of survival, Shepard didn't know and certainly didn't pry. Nowadays, everyone needed some time alone to pull themselves together, and Shepard himself understood the value of that especially.

Instead, Garrus had said wistfully and with a slight chuckle, "Going after the geth again, eh, Shepard? It'll be just like old times." And then, without further ado, he'd cheerfully resumed his convoluted calibrations on the thanix cannon.

Personally, Shepard agreed. With both Garrus and Tali at his back, it'd be exactly like being on the original Normandy. And while he was glad that both Saren and Sovereign were things of the past, he still craved the sense of normalcy back then. He missed the feeling that the galaxy _wasn't_ falling to pieces all around him as he helplessly watched, that worlds _weren't_ being mercilessly conquered by an inexorable force that simply couldn't be stopped with conventional means alone. Yes, it'd certainly be nice if things were simply normal for a change . . . but there was just nothing _'normal'_ about a cycle of extinction. Plus, he missed his original team. While it was true that Joker, Kaiden, Liara, Chakwas, Adams, Garrus, and Tali were all back on the Normandy, he still missed Wrex, and Pressly, and Ash more than anything. After all, two of the three were dead and never coming back. Even more importantly perhaps, he missed the original Normandy, even if the SR-2 simply outshone her in every way. There had been something comforting about that ship, his first command, and it was just something he couldn't quite explain.

And now, after having a quick word with Liara as well, Shepard was anxiously awaiting Tali's arrival in his cabin so they could discuss the finer points of the situation and their relationship without fear of being overheard by anyone other than EDI (who was otherwise unavoidable). He had noticed how awfully rigid she seemed to be inside of the War Room and even during their conversation outside of it, almost as if she was _painfully_ aware of someone, or something, judging her every move. He suspected that this was her reaction to the pressures of being a war-time admiral, he himself having felt something similar after being appointed humanity's first Spectre. He had entertained the same doubts about such an enormous commitment, but found reassurance in the fact that Anderson seemed to have complete faith in him. He also believed that this was what his father would have done if offered the same chance twenty-two years ago. His father, the hero, who was valiantly killed in action whilst defending a human colony from batarian slavers when Nolan was only ten years' old. When he was little, he used to think the world of his father . . . And he couldn't help but feel like his father would have known the right things to say, the right things to do during those difficult decisions Nolan had made thus far, leaving him to feel inadequate in comparison. His father would have known exactly how to rescue Kaiden _and_ Ash, how to save Mordin and Thane . . . how to stop the Reapers from killing everyone. . . .

_Stop it_, he told his inner self firmly whilst simultaneously wishing that his nerves would just stop acting up.

With billions of eyes all across the galaxy inspecting his every move, he didn't have room for mistakes. He had to handle things diplomatically . . . be a _regular_ paragon of humanity. . . .

What he still didn't understand was why she'd taken on this position in the first place when she didn't seem quite confident in her leadership abilities following Freedom's Progress and Haestrom.

The most probable reason for his pessimistic attitude was the fact that he was jittery in anticipation of Tali's arrival. After all, her confirmation about their continued relationship was less than ideal. She was thoughtful, and might have only said those things because she didn't want him to break down in the middle of the CIC. She might be willing to tell him the truth in the relative privacy of his cabin –

_Uh,_ _this is pointless!_

Shepard frowned to himself, and then tried occupying his disjointed thoughts by reviewing the most recent galactic news on a data-pad. It wasn't the most effective way to steel his frayed nerves as most of it seemed pretty bad and none of it seemed to be letting up anytime soon. As it was, the krogan and turians were still fighting tooth-and-nail for every inch of ground gained on Palaven, desperately trying to rescue stranded civilians in the major cities, but even they were slowly being driven back by the oncoming Reaper horde. Mostly Marauders and Brutes, he suspected with a sympathetic shudder. _Gah, I hate those things . . ._

Then, the door opened abruptly and she was _there_, interrupting his stream of consciousness in mid-thought, and he couldn't help but feel like everything was falling into its rightful place once again. Instinctively, a lop-sided grin spread across his face, but this was quickly smothered as she seemed agitated, and shook her head to prove just as much. With brows furrowed in concern, he set his data-pad down on his desk and gave her his full, undivided attention.

"Hey," he greeted her gently.

"Thanks for asking me up," she told him wearily. "I couldn't talk freely in front of Raan."

He nodded his understanding; yes, he'd suspected as much. But he didn't ask her to elaborate, and instead decided to change the subject.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly.

As the question left his lips, her hand flew up as if she meant to massage her temples in frustration if only there wasn't a visor in the way. Inwardly, he felt a brief flare of fondness. This was a gesture she must have learned from the other human crewmembers and himself as it was a human gesture more than anything and quite a senseless one for a quarian.

"No," she told him flatly. "_No_, I'm really not." She shook her head again just to emphasize this point. "Seventeen million lives are riding on me . . . and I just don't know if I can save them. . . ."

Shepard sighed. _Now that you know how I feel, please, feel free to join the club . . ._

He understood, though. Truly, he did. His was an equally stressful burden, if not more so since he was tasked with saving the entire galaxy, including her people. He knew first-hand what kind of burden this was to carry and that she'd never felt responsible for so many people before. In fact, neither did he. Still, he had to give her credit for holding herself together so well in the War Room and only breaking down now, where no one but him would see.

"Hey," he said, and moved relatively quickly, wrapping her securely in his arms so his body could protect her from the more physical harms of the galaxy. This, though . . . this fear was just something he was helpless to protect her from, something he just couldn't do, and it almost physically hurt to see her beating herself up over this goddamn war. So, he did the next best thing.

"You're not alone, Tali," he told her soothingly, wishing with all of his might that he was able to chase away her fears. "I'm here for you."

She weakly returned his embrace. "This was supposed to be my father's fight," she went on miserably into his shoulder. "But he left me with all of this . . . Shepard, if they _die_ because of me . . . if . . . if I don't. . . ."

The tears in her voice were palpable, and he, for his own part, gently stroked her back and closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the sensation of having her back in his arms again. He'd missed her more than he cared to recall, and it simply felt wonderful to have her curled up against his chest again, even if the situation was rather dire. After everything, he couldn't help but feel like this was exactly where she belonged.

"We'll get them out of there safely, Tali," he murmured, sounding more confident than he actually felt. "I promise."

And as he stood there in his cabin with his lover in his arms, Shepard silently vowed to do everything in his power to save her people, even if the endeavor killed him in the process. As far as he was concerned, he'd already done his part and set the Crucible in motion. The rest was up to Admiral Hackett. He only hoped that the remainder of the galaxy would see sense and stand with humanity at the end-game.

Finally, _reluctantly_, he let her go and wistfully watched as she pulled away from him.

"I couldn't do this without you, Shepard," she told him gratefully. In return, he awarded her with a faint smile.

Then, she looked away and turned towards the built-in aquariums. He couldn't be sure, but her eyes seemed to follow a particularly colorful Koi Fish throughout one tank. For a minute, he watched it, too. It was utterly amazing that one animal could be so oblivious to the destruction that was being wrought all across the galaxy. An unthinkable thought, really, but . . . Did it not realize that its — _their_ — home-world was slowly being obliterated? Could it not hear Earth screaming?

If not for his disturbed thoughts, Shepard probably would have found the fish's peaceful movements through the water soothing to his frayed nerves, and idly hoped that it had a similar effect on Tali. This was, after all, just one reason why it'd been installed on the SR-2 in the first place, barring its aesthetical effect on his cabin. The least he could say in Cerberus's defense was that they had some taste.

"I feel like I'm bluffing," she admitted at last, sounding less distraught. "Trying to convince them that the _admiral's daughter_ knows what she's doing."

The distaste in her voice was audible as she said this last part, and he frowned thoughtfully. "Not the admiral's daughter," he said suddenly. She turned around and fixed him with a curious look while he offered her a reassuring smile in return.

"The _admiral_," he said with a resolute nod. _And I have complete faith in you, Tali. I know you'll do the right thing._

His words, meant to instil confidence, seemed to have the opposite kind of effect on her as her head drooped.

"I know," she said softly. "And at least now, I can push back against the worst ideas. That's why I accepted the position . . ." she explained before looking at him somewhat shyly. "And because of you."

All he offered was a stunned expression in response. "Me?" he asked, audibly confused. _Why me?_

She nodded. "When they offered me this position, I asked myself what you'd do. I thought you'd take the chance to make things better," she explained.

She paused, and tentatively closed the distance between them so she could tenderly caress his cheek. Her movements were hesitant, as if she expected him to stop her at any moment. Shepard sniffed. _As if_. If anything, he found himself leaning _into_ her gentle touch.

"You've given up so much, stood for too long without allies . . . I didn't want you to do this alone," she murmured sincerely even as her eyes seemed to soften through her polarized visor. "So, if you're ever lonely . . . just let me know?"

Though her voice contained a small plea, it was a plea nonetheless, and he immediately set to putting her doubts to rest. Ultimately, he wanted there to be no misunderstanding between them as she was the only person in his life who he'd ever felt this strongly about. The only person whose absence from his life would not only be completely devastating to him, but a crippling blow as well. Whatever they had together . . . He wasn't quite ready for love as it still seemed a little too early for that, but it was as close to it as he'd ever gotten.

He reached for one of her hands and held it loosely between their two bodies as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nothing between us has changed, Tali . . ." he told her softly. "Not unless you want it to because, well . . . I mean, I still care about you."

_There_. Now, it was all thrown out into the open.

This was the thing about relationships that he found so difficult. While he was no stranger to drunken one-night-stands, and shamefully slipping out of apartments the next morning before first light, those were just about sex and blowing off steam . . . and nothing like this dance of compromise, of give and take, as a maelstrom of feelings whirled through his skull. No, this was so much _more_ than sex; it was about emotion, too. The truth was that he was afraid to care because he seemed to lose those he was close to.

The facts of his life were staggering. Of the fifty fully-trained marines that stepped onto Akuze, he was the only one to come out of it alive. And Ash, totally obliterated on Virmire. Mordin killed on Tuchunka, trying to rectify an old mistake. Thane murdered on the Citadel by a Cerberus assassin whilst defending the salarian Councilor, killed doing what Shepard himself should have done in his stead. He was the Spectre, after all. Not Thane. It was his duty to defend the Council, and he'd failed. Thane was just the first to take the fall for him. And this fear was what made him run from Liara on the original Normandy after she showed interest in pursuing a relationship with him. Because he was too afraid to let someone in, get close. People had a nasty habit of dying when he did.

Tali, though . . . Tali was different. There was something about her, something that might remind him of himself sometimes, that made everything about a relationship with her seem natural and right. For some reason, he could see himself with her ten, twenty, fifty years from now, and that seemed to make a real difference. And he swore that he'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just this one thing he could never lose.

And yet even now he was giving her an escape. A way out before things became too serious between them. While there was nowhere he'd rather be than by her side and in her heart at a time such as this, he was still willing to let her go if she'd decided that this wasn't something she wanted anymore. If he just wasn't enough. The mere thought of it made him sick, but it was the right thing to do and he knew it. Especially when some in the galaxy (Khalisa bint Sinan al-Jilani comes to mind here) might think that he'd taken advantage of her as his subordinate.

_God_, he thought to himself in exasperation, _why can't I be the selfish one for once? Haven't I already lost enough? Why does everything have to be so goddamn hard?_

They were both too selfless for their own good, he realized. Between her trying to convince him that he should love someone else, that he could love _anyone_ else in the galaxy in her place because she was no good, and his trying to keep her happy, it seemed that they'd never get anything done.

_"Keelah_, Shepard!" she cried exasperatedly. "I'm not going to beg, but I didn't come up here just to see the fish!"

His eyes softened as he laughed. "I know," he said with a smile, squeezing her hand reassuringly. Then, he growled. He actually _growled!_ It came as much of a surprise to himself as it did to her. "And I want you here . . . with me." _Always._

So it seemed that, with one line, he'd made her impossibly happy, so happy she could hardly speak. "Okay," she choked out, and then threw her arms around him again, surprising him as it was she who initiated it. He recovered quickly and poured every fiber of his being into that embrace, hoping to convey how much he cared about her.

Wrapped in each other's arms, they fell into a comfortable silence and just stood there, never wanting the moment to end.

"I missed you," he murmured at last as he held her close, burying his face in the purple shawl that was wrapped around her helmet. "Even when I was grounded on Earth, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was worried. I had no way of knowing if you were okay or if the Fleet was treating you right after your trial . . ."

He let a chuckle escape him, and had no doubt that she could feel its vibrations through his broad chest. "I probably shouldn't have worried. You technically outrank me now."

She giggled in return. "I already told you: It's just a formality. Besides, without a ship and crew, my title carries very little weight. You know that." She paused, and buried her helmet in his chest apologetically. "And I missed you, too. I would have messaged you, but I didn't want to get you into any more trouble than you were already in."

"They had me on a pretty tight lockdown," he agreed. "Wouldn't have gotten your message anyway. I guess that's what I get for blowing up an entire batarian system." This last part was bitter, and Tali pulled away slightly in order to look into his eyes.

"You did what was right," she assured him. "And you _did_ try to warn them; that's what counts."

He gave her a dark look. "A lot of people might disagree with you on that," he muttered darkly.

Yes, he couldn't help but feel that this was exactly where she belonged — in his arms. And the way their bodies were pressed together tightly, and their lightly stroking each other's backs, only suggested that they might turn this reunion into something . . . _more_. He was a hot-blooded male, after all, and these last few months without any release had certainly not done him any favors. He suspected that she might feel the same way. So, he decided to try. He knew that nothing would probably come of it, but he decided to try all the same.

"You know . . ." he said suddenly, "I feel pretty lonely right _now_."

She looked up at him, eyes briefly lit with confusion, and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So, uh, 'still totally worth it,' huh?"

He could practically feel her heart skip a beat as she registered what _exactly_ he was suggesting.

She chuckled and shook her head remorsefully. "As much as I want to, I . . . can't," she told him. "If I'm not down soon, Raan will become suspicious and the last thing I need right now is for this—whatever we have—to become public knowledge. You know it'd discredit me. Besides, I . . . I'd get sick on our mission." She hesitated. "You understand . . . don't you?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of her visor, right where her forehead should be, and his breath trailed a line of fog across its rather opaque surface. "Of course I do," he said gently. "You've got a lot on your plate right now. I get that. I've got a lot going on, too. It was just an idea . . ." _A particularly pleasurable one, yes._ But there was also Garrus waiting downstairs, and . . . What did Jacob call him? . . . Shepard had completely forgotten about "old cuttle-bone."

Her doubts having been satisfied, she curled into his chest once again. "Good." Once more, she hesitated. "Maybe later, we can . . . Once all of this has blown over, I mean."

_Mhmm . . . now there's an idea. . . ._

His face brightened almost immediately and, in return, he offered up another one of his infamously lopsided grins. "Wait, so you want to, then?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows again as his way of trying to improve the mood. He didn't like seeing her so downhearted. And he obviously gave her the impression that he'd only locked onto the one thing of the many she'd actually said.

Tali groaned and shoved him aside with a little more force than she'd originally intended. "Keelah, you can be such a . . . a _bosh'tet_ sometimes!"

He frowned and furrowed his brow in concentration. "You never did tell me what that means exactly." And she hadn't; whenever he asked about it, she'd merely blush and explain very awkwardly that it wasn't something said in polite company among quarians. That hardly did anything to alleviate his curiosity, however.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "And I'm not going to," she retorted with a playful inflection.

His frown deepened. "And why not?"

"Because."

He crossed his arms across his chest as well, mirroring her stance almost identically. His, however, was much more formidable as his additional height gave him a definite edge. "Because why?"

But Tali wasn't intimidated in the least. In fact, he suspected that she would have stuck out her tongue at him if it wasn't for the visor being in the way. "Because I said so."

Even as she said it, a beautiful idea occurred to him and his frown blossomed into a wicked smile. "You're so mean," he told her quietly even as he closed the distance between them, acting as if he fully intended to kiss her. So close, in fact, that her obscured face was right in front of his, so painfully _close_ and yet still out of reach. He could even see her full lips, parted in anticipation . . .

"But I'm still willing to wait for you, _Miss vas Normandy_," he breathed into the breather portion of her suit, and even then his breath created another line of fog across her visor.

She blinked dazedly. "Mhmm . . . I need . . . to go. . . ." she breathed in return, sounding as if her mind wasn't totally focused upon the conversation at hand. He watched in amusement as she disentangled herself from him reluctantly, almost as if her thoughts were disconnected from the rest of her body.

_And that was for that little jibe downstairs_, he thought smugly. _Still totally worth it, indeed._

He smirked triumphantly as he was fully aware that his hot breath had a habit of freezing her up. "It was good talking to you, Tali," he said, "but you'd better go and grab your gear. We're going to hit that dreadnought _hard_."

She was still too dazed to reply, and merely stumbled out of his cabin. Only after the door closed and he was left with an empty cabin for company did he finally begin to laugh.

And as he began to suit up, he knew that one thing was certainly for sure: His self-imposed mission to cheer Tali up had been nothing if not successful.

* * *

_Note: As much as I love Canada (I used to live up near there, in fact, only across one of the Great Lakes), Garrus is, sadly enough, not Canadian. Savvy? ;-)_

_Also, Shepard's father will come into focus later after I've hammered out all the details. _

_Please, read and review to let me know what you think! I mean, come on, you lurkers, I love random messages! Plus, I'll even acknowledge you in my next chapter! You know, the one on the geth dreadnought...? Everybody loves that part!_


	4. Desperate Times

_Once again, let me just say how very sorry I am for the delay! Lately I've been bogged down with so much homework, exams, and essays... Who knew college life could be so busy? Just kidding there, but seriously I've been hard-pressed to find time to work on this fic. I might have to just start updating it whenever I can find the time to do so, and not every Friday like I'd originally planned._

_So, uh, hello, everyone. We've finally reached (at least in my opinion) one of the best moments in-game for Shepard and Tali. As always, I've taken the liberty of adding a few additional lines of dialogue and scenes that would've improved the overall experience (for myself at least). I hope that's okay... Also, I'd originally planned for this chapter and the next chapter to be only one chapter, but it turned out to be such a monstrously large chapter that I've decided to split it into two. Thus, there will be two chapters focusing upon the geth dreadnought in Tali's perspective. Those of you who think there should be more Tali - you should be over-joyed now. ;-)_

_As of the moment I write this, I would like to formally acknowledge:_

_- Treehuger90 (No worries, bro. I'm still alive and kicking! Just pretty busy... On another note, what do you mean "good job as always, for now"!? Don't I always do a good job? D: )_

_- Tattoo'd (Great. Just great. I probably should have seen THAT one threat coming... Just keep Hera off of me, and I'll be happy. She's one evil spider. ;-) )_

_- T-Sparkle (I agree. 'More Tali' is always nice in any fic. ;D )_

_- TW6464 (Thanks! That means a bunch!)_

_- Hamster Giggles (That expression is most definitely true. Especially when I have EXTREMELY high standards for my work. On another note... I expected more than threats from someone with such a fluffy username! ;D)_

_- Dark Shade 75 (I'm glad you loved it. I know I certainly love giving my own twist to things.)_

_- Para-Cord (But only because s/he "feels special" when s/he's mentioned. ;D)_

_- D3mentedG0Ose (Thanks! And I'll really have to keep that strange threat in mind...)_

_- chidoriprime (Thanks! I'm glad that you're looking forward to what I have planned in this chapter and the next.)_

_ For those of you who are wondering why I left little comments for my reviewers (you're all wonderful, by the way, even though I'm pretty sure you're all thinking 'Who actually reads these author's notes thingies?' and 'BRING ON THE STORY ALREADY!'), just know that it's my little way of letting them know that I've read them and I deeply appreciate the support they're showing me by leaving them in the first place. Just sayin'._

_Anyway, constructive criticism is, as always, welcome. Please, no flames. Feel free to correct me if I get any of the lore wrong as I'm human and capable of making mistakes. :3_

_Also, as I'm not pleased with this chapter either (just really, really tired of looking at it and editing it), I'm going to post as-is and maybe go back and change the worst mistakes later._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter Four :**

**Desperate Times**

**oOoOo**

_Finally._

This was Tali's only thought as she scaled the ladder with surprising agility, thereby joining Shepard on the upper platform, whilst Garrus searched the bottom level for anything even remotely salvageable. She stepped out onto the platform proper and glanced briefly around the dreadnought's interior, her silvery eyes alight with suppressed interest.

All her life, she'd been raised to hate and revile the geth, regarding them as little more than mindless, killing machines because they were ultimately responsible for her people's exodus from their home-world. This had all happened over 300 years ago, and so it came with little wonder that part of her was fascinated with everything and anything to do with them. Especially so when one considered the fact that her people were the ones to create these machines as a source of slave-labor, and then consequently turned on them out of a fear that they were becoming too self-aware for their own good. While she was usually disgusted with this interested part of herself . . . this line of reasoning led to some unsettling questions that she didn't have the answers to, and another part of her wondered if she'd want to know the truth at all. Ignorance is bliss, so they say . . . or was it?

Still, history had a habit of rewriting itself. Were quarians responsible for the Morning War, or were the geth, as many of her people claimed? Were they pariahs of the galaxy because of their ancestors' mistake, or because of the geth? The more and more she thought about it, especially after meeting Legion, the closer she came to grudgingly accepting the fact that her people were the only party to blame.

Tali shook her head, trying to clear it of these distressing thoughts. There was, after all, a legitimate reason why she hated the geth, and this was it.

This done, only then did she finally look at Shepard, and release a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Encased in his bulky combat armor as he was, and with the additional breather helmet, he seemed unharmed. While anxiously waiting on the Normandy for him to open another airlock, her greatest fear was that he'd be pinned down by the geth (especially as he was_ alone_), even if he was in constant radio contact with them the entire time, reassuring them that he was fine. Though she had to admit that he was more than capable of taking care of himself, this realization did very little to assuage her irrational fears that he would get hurt. Or worse, that he would die. _Again_.

He looked up and their eyes met. Her lips curled into a frown as she saw that, as on most high-priority missions, the face of the man she loved was hidden behind a weathered mask of stalwart concentration and determination, a mask that she'd reluctantly come to associate with Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre. And as much as she owed Commander Shepard for his help and loyalty, she loved him more when he was just Shepard. The man she knew and loved quite possibly more than life itself. Not some untouchable, perfected hero. _Her_ Shepard, as flawed as he was.

Commander Shepard was terse, militaristic, and charismatic, yes, capable of leading his men and women into the mouth of Hell itself, or fending off malicious politicians with clever wordplay, but, nonetheless, this wasn't the man she loved. She loved him when they were alone, and he was the Shepard only she knew, who could be sweet, and funny, and compassionate, and as equally frustrating and devious as he was endearing. Rather than seeing him charge off into the midst of some bloody fray, his assault rifle blazing and his lips set in a firm, determined line, she'd rather see his infamously lopsided smile and his softened emerald-green eyes as he held her hand between his and promised her that everything would be all right. When he was her Shepard and hers alone, she could easily get lost in everything that he was and drown in his warm embrace.

This did not mean that there were not moments when her Shepard shown through, dispelling his Commander Shepard façade. On a mission, these moments were few and far between as he took his duty seriously, but they were there and she treasured each of them greatly. More than anything, she did not want him to forget who he was.

As it was, she'd lost him twice by her count, and she had no intention of losing him again.

The first time occurred on the original Normandy, shortly after Ash's death on Virmire. In the wake of such devastation, he'd been inconsolable. He slept irregularly and neglected to eat. He'd seemed to have forgotten his humanity and his every movement was automatic, almost _robotic_. To this day, she'd never forget Shepard's argument with Kaiden on the bridge of the _SSV Normandy_, just after the tragedy on Virmire and when Kaiden still blamed himself for Ash's untimely death. Shepard had turned on him sharply. Almost _scathingly, _which was not at all like him. "If you want to blame anyone, Alenko," he'd snarled angrily, "blame _me_. It was my call. Not yours."

Since then, she'd asked him why he'd been so angry, and his reply had been less than satisfactory. "It reminded me of Akuze," he'd said with this rather bleak look and then he'd refused to elaborate any further.

After Virmire, however, his only redemption lay within his stopping Saren once and for all, thereby vindicating himself of Ash's death. This belief became his obsession, it was all he could think about, and, surprisingly enough, it was Kaiden who later talked some sense back into him. Only after their lengthy talk did Shepard finally begin to smile again. Regardless, it'd taken ages for him to return to his normal, cheerful self, and she swore that she'd never let him lose himself again. Not to something as mundane as grief.

The second time was much more physical as he'd quite literally died. At the time, there had been no escaping facts. She'd missed him, more and more so with every day that passed. At first, she'd been painfully aware that the Normandy was gone and Shepard dead when she'd wake aboard the Neema to a recurrent nightmare. Then, she began to miss those visits he'd make to Engineering just to speak with her, asking her questions about the Migrant Fleet and quarians in general. From what she understood, he had done that with everyone aboard the ship, always asking questions, gauging opinions, offering a compliment or some advice here or there. Shepard liked learning about the different races in the galaxy. He'd thought it'd give him a better position for better relations, knowing more about these species than what the typical human did.

The Neema, after all, had been many things. It was loud, and crowded, and a ship with a fair reputation. It was not, however, the Normandy, with its smooth aesthetics and silent engines and equally enormous, equally powerful drive core. This thought alone caused her much grief, remembering the fate of the Normandy. She was painfully aware that, despite his relative kindness at the time and his friendship with her father, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema was not Commander Shepard.

It was Garrus who first contacted her, telling her how the Council and the Alliance had called off the search for Shepard. They said that they had found no trace of the Commander, that he had been killed in action by an unknown ship. Based on Joker's guilt-ridden testimony, they concluded that, if he had been spaced, he would not have survived entry into Alchera's atmosphere and burned to a crisp. If not that, then he would die from the impact.

But they ever found his body. They'd found absolutely no trace of it, in fact, and this gave Tali a faint stirring of hope, something that bordered on painful. He could have survived. Couldn't he? Keelah, he was Commander Shepard! He had talked down Saren, was responsible for the destruction of Sovereign, and he was the very first human Spectre. There was nothing he couldn't do!

But somewhere in her heart, she knew he was dead. Gone. Everyone said so. Joker, Kaiden, Liara, Garrus, and various other crew-members she kept in contact with. Still, she couldn't help but hope that one day he would return, simply show up without warning on the Citadel or somewhere, asking for his crew back and eager for some well-deserved revenge against whatever it was that killed him. And Tali would leave the Fleet without a second thought. Because, though she loved her people dearly, truthfully, the Normandy had become more of a home than the Flotilla had ever been. Especially so since her mother had died.

But he never came back. Days blurred into months, and her father soon reached the conclusion that she was ready for her first command. She was the daughter of Admiral Rael'Zorah, after all. How could she not be?

Her charges and objectives were varied. Sometimes, she was sent out to scan the planets of nearby systems for minerals; other times she was sent out in a shuttle to collect returning quarians from Pilgrimage. Some of her subordinates treated her with the respect they deemed necessary for an Admiral's daughter, like the marine, Kal'Reegar. Others treated her with disdain, believing her still too young for the realities of command, like Prazza. Most quite simply underestimated her abilities, which, she couldn't help but think was something that Shepard had never done.

But as she looked at him now, his eyes (which were his only feature visible through his helmet) seemed to glitter with amusement, and in ways that made her toes curl. If he wasn't wearing a helmet, however, she had utterly no doubt that she'd see his lips spread in one of his crooked smiles. As a way to humor him and show him that she was grateful that he'd gotten the door for her, she sashayed her hips with emphasis towards him.

"Thank you for having me over," she purred, and as she passed him by, she once again brushed against a certain part of his anatomy. She knew that he wouldn't feel it through his combat armor, but would deeply appreciate the playful gesture nonetheless. She didn't stop as she heard him intake a sharp breath, but rather kept moving towards a locked door that they couldn't quite reach because its bridge had been retracted into the platform they now stood upon.

She instinctively knew that this was their way forward.

She was also acutely aware of Shepard's eyes following her every movement, and smirked because she knew that her hips were something he could _definitely_ appreciate.

Behind her, he shrugged. "Well, I don't actually know where I'm going," he admitted, and if his sparkling eyes weren't enough, she could practically hear the lopsided grin in his voice even if she couldn't see it. _Keelah . . ._ She was about to offer a smart retort to the effect of leading him on, but Garrus beat her to the punch.

Below their platform, he awkwardly coughed. "I'm, uh, still here," he reminded the two mildly, which, Tali assumed, was his way of letting them know that he didn't want to be privy to their flirtatious banter. "Can we just get on with it?"

Tali looked at Shepard and awarded him with a sly wink. "I'll see what I can do," she offered, nodding for Shepard's benefit towards the locked door that was on their level. "In the meantime, take a look at this." That said, she deftly removed an unfamiliar pistol from her belt and set it down on a nearby console for him to examine while she hacked their way onward.

Behind her, Shepard smiled appreciatively at the inflection in her voice, and moved closer to the console as per her request. The pistol did not appear to be any make or model he recognized, and he briefly entertained the idea that she'd modified it so that it'd be unrecognizable. If so, then for what purpose? He picked it up, and weighed it in his hands. He even turned it over. Still, no distinguishable markings and, close up, he noticed that it appeared to have been manufactured entirely from various pieces of salvage.

As she worked through hacking the door's securities and he examined Tali's new pistol, Garrus decided to join them, and his satchel was loaded with only minor salvage. To Shepard's inquiring look, he merely shrugged helplessly. He obviously didn't recognize the pistol either.

"There," announced Tali suddenly and, by stepping away, revealed that she had not only unlocked the door, but also extended the bridge so they could reach it. "It's open. We're clear to go."

Shepard, still clutching the pistol, strode over to her. "So, what exactly am I looking at here?" he asked, holding up the pistol for his two companions to see.

"It's Admiral Xen's design," she explained. "It transmits an energy burst on contact that disrupts shields and synthetics."

Shepard examined the weapon with newfound appreciation. "That'll be handy," he remarked pleasantly. Then, he paused. "You'd better keep it on you," he told her with a small grin. "After all, I've got _this_." He hefted his high-grade assault rifle just to emphasize his point. Tali gingerly accepted the pistol back and rolled her eyes to show that she was _not_ amused.

Behind them, Garrus stirred. "How come I don't get a new gun?" he asked teasingly.

Tali shrugged and affected an innocent voice, even if she was smirking behind her visor. "Couldn't find one in your size."

Shepard choked down an inadvertent snort, and Garrus simply glowered at her, slack-jawed. Before he could formulate an ample comeback, Shepard interrupted their playful banter.

"All right," he said firmly. "Time to move out."

In one fluid motion, he removed his assault rifle from the magnetic clasps on his back and extended it with an audible snap. Garrus and Tali exchanged a look and then did likewise. Together, they took off down the cramped hallway as quietly as possible, their eyes peeled for any sign of the geth. Shepard, of course, took point, and was followed closely by Tali, and with Garrus bringing up the rear since the hallway was too narrow for even two to walk abreast. The tactical lights built into their weapons easily cut through the darkness that loomed before them, and the three sets of rapidly-moving lights almost appeared to the casual observer like some kind of impromptu light show on the walls as they swung their weapons to and fro in synchronization with their well-trained eyes.

They made little to no chatter as they approached their destination as they did not know if they'd be running into any geth along the way, and soon came upon a more spacious hallway that was framed with several vents and lined with a handful of doors. Shepard stopped and looked at Tali.

"So, where are we headed?" he asked expectantly.

Tali lowered her shotgun. "We're looking for an operations center," she told them dubiously. "I can disable the Reaper command signal from there."

"Great," Shepard grunted. "Where's the nearest one?"

She relocated her shotgun to her lower back and quickly opened her omni-tool, which cast a faint orange glow on the shadowy walls around them. Her eyes darted through the dreadnought's holographic schematics and, during times like these, he was grateful for that brilliant mind of hers. "Looks like . . . past their defense network and through a sensor cluster," she informed them both before closing her omni-tool. The dreadnought's interior appeared much more gloomy without it.

"We just need to keep going," she supplied.

Shepard nodded. "Understood."

Their procession took off once more and as they moved through the spacious hallway, Tali caught sight of the vents and a shiver traveled down her spine.

"Gah, vents," she groaned. "Always the vents . . ."

Shepard stopped briefly and rewarded her with a reassuring, if knowing, grin. "You did fine at the Collector's base," he offered. Even if it was meant as a compliment, she certainly didn't receive it as such.

As soon as the words left his mouth, she fixed him with a look of sheer disbelief. "I got set on fire!" she exclaimed unhappily. After all, such a thing was not regarded as one of her finer moments, even if she'd pushed Shepard to choose her for the mission instead of Kasumi. That way, she'd feel like she was doing something more for their mission than just shooting whatever Collector was unlucky enough to stick its head out of cover.

He sheepishly readjusted his helmet. "Well, no one's perfect," he muttered, and then they continued on their way.

* * *

As they went deeper into the dreadnought and through another passageway littered with various debris, Tali was given the vaguest impression that they were moving in circles. Everything was beginning to look hauntingly familiar, and, as Shepard drew to an abrupt stop, she shot him a questioning look.

He turned to his two companions. "Shouldn't be too much farther now to the main battery," he remarked somewhat cautiously. They had yet to run into any geth and the anticipation was starting to get to Tali as she jumped at every stray noise and shadow flitting across the walls. In the end, he was being too serious for her taste and she set immediately to work rectifying that.

Hidden behind her visor, Tali's lips curled into a devilish smile. "I _appreciate_ what you're doing here, Shepard," she told him, and, for the most part, she kept her voice sincere. But there was no doubting a certain inflection in her synthesized voice that promised pleasureable rewards in the near future, a certain inflection that she'd also learned from Miranda Lawson and knew for a certainty that Shepard wouldn't be able to resist.

It only took a moment for her to realize that she was right; Shepard was incapable of letting that one go so easily. His emerald-green eyes gleamed mischievously in the gloom and seemed to linger upon her for just a little too long. Long enough for a certain bubbly warmth to pool in her toes and race to the rest of her body, ending in her finger-tips. Somehow, she just knew that he was smiling lopsidedly behind that obsidian N7 helmet of his, and this knowledge seemed to make all the difference as this was entirely her own doing. It was such a shame that his radiant smile had to be hidden by his damn helmet . . . In their time spent together, she'd grown far too used to his boyish grin.

_Keelah, but how I love that contagious smile of his . . . _And she did. Truly. That one simple gesture had a way of convincing her that everything was going to be all right, that they'd get out of this alive just like they always did. The Reapers would go the way of Saren and the Collectors because Shepard was capable of nothing less. Yes, because of that one gesture, she had complete and total faith in him.

"Well," Shepard said with some amusement in return, "I care _deeply_ about the quarian people."

Tali sighed. "It's good to be back on the Normandy," she replied contentedly. _Among other things . . . _She was especially glad that nothing within him seemed to have taken a turn for the worse, that he wasn't too pessimistic about their chances if he found himself capable of teasing his friends.

But he wasn't finished, not by a long-shot, so it seemed, as he awarded her with a sly wink. "Let me know if it's too quiet for you to sleep, and I'll find you someplace _louder_." He paused and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "My cabin, perhaps?"

She would've stared at him speechlessly, _positively_ horror-struck, if it'd been anyone but Garrus, but since it _was_ Garrus, she decided to join in and irk their turian friend to no end. After all, she still hadn't forgiven him for their little elevator talks just after they'd first met. Nor his comment about turian chocolate, for that matter.

So, to emphasize his discomfort, she pretended to seriously consider Shepard's offer, even if she knew _exactly_ what he meant by it. She thoughtfully readjusted her mouth-piece, which was the quarian equivalent of scratching her chin. "Hmmm."

While Shepard choked back a laugh (with much coughing on his part), Garrus looked painfully uncomfortable between them. He then tried to clear the air by coughing awkwardly.

"Uh, I was there when you two had your thing, remember?" he tried to remind them in the hopes that they'd let up their shameless foreplay. "Just . . . get a room and work it out. In private, I mean. That way, _everybody_ wins."

Shepard turned to Garrus and shrugged playfully. Though he was a few inches shorter than their tall, turian friend, Shepard still had the more confident posture. "What can I say, Vakarian?" he jibed, the lopsided grin once more palpable in his voice. Even more so than before, so it seemed _(Was that even possible?)_. "I have reach, and Tali has . . . _flexibility_."

Knowing Shepard and Garrus as well as she did, Tali suspected that this was some kind of dirty joke between the two of them and so, with a half-hearted groan of exasperation, she shoved Shepard away with a little more force than she originally intended. That done, she stalked away from them a few paces, indignantly muttering _"Bosh'tet!" _under her breath.

"Must you _always_ do that, woman?" Shepard called after her incredulously, audibly hurt. She turned around slowly and saw that his eyes were still gleaming even as he massaged his offended shoulder and wounded ego. Though she knew that he wouldn't see it, she stuck her tongue out at him. What he would see was her silvery eyes narrowed in playful derision and certainly hazard a guess as to why.

Meanwhile, Garrus looked between the two of them awkwardly. "I, uh, didn't need to know that," he squeaked. "Too much information."

Tali continued to stalk away, Shepard following in her wake like a lost puppy because this was the sort of environment in which he couldn't let her out of his sight even for a heartbeat. "Oh, and Garrus?" she threw over her shoulder with affected pleasantries while her insides swirled in irritated turmoil. "This stays strictly between us. If you tell anyone, I will kill you with my shotgun."

That said, Garrus audibly gulped. Tali was particularly pleased with the fact that he offered no more complaints for the remainder of the mission.

* * *

It came as no surprise when, further on, they ran into a pocket of geth whilst trying to navigate the dreadnought's main battery.

_"Geth!"_ cried Shepard urgently.

Even as the sudden influx of geth began to open fire upon them, Shepard and Tali dove behind a row of consoles while Garrus ducked behind the wall on the opposite side of the dangerously-open corridor.

While Shepard and Garrus alternated their return-fire in almost perfect synchronization, distracting the geth long enough to give one another ample enough time to reload, they grimly concentrated on counting each kill that they dropped. Tali, meanwhile, ignored their rival competition and carefully peered over the top of one console, firing off a few shots of her own with the arc pistol, in order to better glimpse their enemy. Most of them either seemed to be geth hunters (Shepard and Garrus were always quick to spot these and eliminate them before they came too close) or regular, standard-issue geth, armed with pulse rifles and rocket launchers.

In such a tough fire-fight as this, they seemed to be making little to no headway. Of the two dozen geth, they'd only killed about 2/3. Tali didn't like how this was going, and how this was wasting their valuable time in shutting down the dreadnought for good. She looked at the geth again; there were only one or two that seemed to be giving them particular trouble.

_What was that human expression?_ Tali wondered suddenly. It was something Shepard had said before, on another mission . . . _'Desperate times call for desperate measures'? Oh, yes, that was it!_ And if these weren't desperate times, then Tali didn't know what was.

She weighed the options in her head. She could leap over their cover and launch a full-on assault with her shotgun, trusting her life to the integrity of her maxed-out shields . . . or she could simply wait it out while the dreadnought mercilessly took out even more of her people.

Her choice was clear. She sat back on her heels in preparation of a fully-loaded spring.

It was terribly reckless, but she knew that, once she was out in the open, Shepard and Garrus would do everything in their power to lend her some much-needed covering fire.

"I'm going in!" she suddenly announced to her two, otherwise-occupied companions.

Then, she sprang. Only there was something important she hadn't taken into consideration.

_"TALI!" _

* * *

_I know. Don't you just hate it when your squad-mates randomly jump out of cover and get themselves killed on your 'Insanity' play-through? I know I do._

_Please, read and review to let me know what you think. Come on, you lurkers, I know you're out there. I was one of you for the longest time on this site and now, look, I'm writing stories for YOU. Just a simple 'Good job!' would suffice to let me know that I'm doing good and that you want me to continue. Plus, you get mentioned! What's better than that? :-)_

_Also, I referenced one of my M!Shepard/Tali one-shots in this. See if you can spot it. :P_


	5. Jus In Bello

_First off, WHOA. Got an overwhelmingly positive reaction to this last chapter, which makes me feel tingly all over. So... many... reviews... It's kinda getting more difficult to acknowledge all of you... I think that means it's working. Guess I'm gonna have to break you off into groups._

_As of the moment I write this, I would like to formally acknowledge:_

_The Likers / Lovers ([1]R-Dash, [2]Treehuger90, [3]chidoriprime, [4]DovahofStrunx6, [5]Fattness, [6]timbryanscott, and [7]BoneRanger89, and [8]Tattoo'd): (1) I'm glad you like 'To Build A Home' thus far. And, like I said before, I agree. 'More Tali' is good in any fic. Also, is that a challenge? I certainly do like challenges... not sure if I'll be able to pull it off now that life's gotten so busy, but I can try. Give me an idea and I'll see what I can do. (2) No problem. And will do, boss. I know I did a happy dance when I finally uploaded this chapter. (3) As always, I'm glad you liked it, bro. I just had to have some Garrus-teasing in there. It'd have been no fun otherwise. Besides, I hate how ME3 sort of gets rid of your third squad-mate during cut-scenes and such. (4) Thanks, man! And I certainly will comply with your wishes to write more. I think you'll be pleased to know that, after I'm done with 'To Build A Home' and her two sequels, I have plans to write an entirely AU fic in which Nolan Shepard somehow manages to survive the Crucible's detonation and begins to build a life with Tali. What can I say? I love the ManShep my brain came up with. Also, I've got a few scientific ideas on that front that I haven't yet seen done. So... yeah. (5) Glad you like it. And will do. You know. In regards to making up for the cliff-hanger later. I blame my Minion for that little detail. Minion, you know who you are. (6) Wow, I'm glad you like it thus far, man. And don't worry about the lurking part; I was one of those for the longest time, too, until I decided, to hell with it, I'm going to write some stories and review my favorites. Much appreciated that you revealed yourself just to give me such an awesome review. (7) I'm thrilled you love it, bro. I try to get these chapters out as quick as I possibly can without losing quality in the translation. I don't like keeping you guys in suspense for TOO long, you understand... (8) Agreed, dear Minion. And I'd like to say that your reviews never cease to make my day. So, thank you._

_TW6464 - Then you are missing out, my friend. And missing a trophy/achievement, I imagine. You'll just have to take my word for it, mate. Most annoying thing EVER! Having to jump out of cover just to revive the bloody idiots when you've got three geth primes firing at you... Gah! It's like they're suicidal or something. "Hey, wait. No, Tali, don't - and there she goes. Dead already. Fantastic."_

_The Good-Job-bers (Urd85613, gladitor118, WhiteDawn, and Alucard45): Thank you! And as you four have pretty much followed my instructions to the letter, I would totally give you each an insanely-large cookie right now if I could. God only knows that the world could do with a lot more of those. Also, WhiteDawn, you belong with the cliff-hanger haters. Alucard45, shame on you. If you'd written more, you would've earned an extra cookie._

_And The Cliff-Hanger Haters (To my beloved anonymous reviewer and others already named. You know who you are.): I know. I'm evil. I've accepted that fact about myself a long time ago. Besides, how could I resist when the dark side has cookies? I love cookies. :D_

_00Dunno00 - You are just a freak of nature and I mean that in the best possible way because you actually LIKED my cliff-hanger. Especially after seeing all these reviews that hate it... Seriously. You're awesome. Extra cookie for you. :D_

_Whoo. Now for the hard one to address. PyroRaptor, I'm certainly glad that you've liked my story enough to read it and offer some constructive criticism. I shall seriously take all of it into consideration for future chapters as I work to improve my style. About the canon dialogue... Most of my reviews seem to say that they enjoy how I'm taking the canon dialogue and adding additional bits and pieces to it so I see no reason to change this. While I have plans for entirely AU Mass Effect fics and entire chapters in this one that never occurred in-game, I still want this fic to reflect BioWare's Commander Shepard and not just my own. I have plans for completely AU Shepards in the future (And I mean seriously, Shepards that were never in the Alliance but raised by Cerberus, for example). Now, in regards to canon itself: I'll admit I could have written it better and I've deleted that part that you disliked, but I was trying to emphasize the fact that Tali's always been conflicted over the entire issue. This was, after all, the only argument she really seemed to push throughout the series. I know that the quarians fired first. Just... ugh. I hate arguing. I guess I was trying to rush character development._

_And while I really do appreciate your constructive criticism, PyroRaptor, I, uh, have some advice for you. I mean this in the nicest way, but when you review something, it would be most helpful if you pointed out the things that a writer actually did well and not just completely focus on the things they did wrong or handled badly. This is what I always try to do. You know. So you don't completely discourage them from writing ever again... I won't lie: I know you had good intentions, but your review was pretty harsh, man._

_Also, because my lovely Minion seems to be more in love with my Nolan Shepard than I am, I drew her a picture of him and his Tali'Zorah. She kindly published it on deviantArt under her profile as I don't have one. For those of you awesome souls who're interested, here's the link. This site is kinda temperamental when it comes to links so I'll just have to break it down for you. cherokee(delete this)eyes(place a period here)deviantart(place another period here)com/gallery/#/d5h7xca_

_Also, please check out her other stuff while you're there!_

_Speaking of my Minion, many, many thanks are due to her as she drew a picture of my Nolan Shepard/Tali and kindly let me use it as my cover for 'To Build A Home'. So, thank you, Minion! In comparison to hers, my drawing sucks. :(_

_Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome and appreciated. Please, no flames. I am now aware that I suck at action pieces. :(_

* * *

**Chapter Five :**

**Jus In Bello**

_(please see author's note at bottom for definition)_

**oOoOo**

Suddenly and without warning, Tali found herself being violently wrenched back behind the console as she tried to leap out of cover. Instinctively, she twisted in mid-air and was consequently brought to her hands and knees, face-to-face with the smoldering eyes of Shepard himself. She quickly realized that she had underestimated his superhuman reflexes. He was being overprotective again, she knew, and, immensely irritated with this one fact, she quickly summoned the initiative to hammer him with a verbal onslaught to the effect that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, _thank you very much_. She didn't need him to be always looking over his shoulder just to ascertain that she was okay, which Tali offhandedly took to mean that he doubted her abilities in some way.

No. If he was going to survive this war, then he needed to look after himself and not focus on everyone else. More than anything, she needed him to stop putting the needs of others _always_ before his own.

The words, however, were just on the tip of her tongue when another shockwave, even more powerful than the last, rattled past. For a moment, the floor quaked vehemently in the wake of having so much energy be released, and Garrus, who was still standing, was forced to spread his legs apart in order to retain his balance. The sheer force of it, coupled with the unexpectedness of it all, positively stole Tali's breath away, despite the protective presence of her environ-suit.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, she'd completely forgotten about the shockwaves in favor of their more tangible enemy: The geth, her people's historic nemesis . . . She hadn't even _heard_ it coming, which was as good a giveaway as any when the dreadnought's main gun fired.

Dazed, her mind raced like perfectly-oiled clockwork as she hurriedly took the entire situation into consideration. If she'd gone out there as originally intended, her shields would've been decimated in a millisecond, leaving her wide open to attack . . . In all likelihood, Shepard had just saved her life. _Again_. And _Keelah_, she'd been about to criticize him for it!

She looked up sheepishly, meeting his still-smoldering eyes almost reluctantly. Behind her visor, she blushed furiously as she realized how close she'd actually come to making such an idiotic mistake. She briefly criticized her own stupidity; after all, a good admiral, with even her father included, would never have made such an enormous blunder. . . .

And Shepard . . . She momentarily wished that he wouldn't appear so upset. His emerald-green eyes had hardened, regained their sharp edges, and his deeply-furrowed brow had quite literally added a few years to his pale face . . . She couldn't help but think that all of this seemed so very unlike him. She never liked seeing him angry. Especially when his ire was directed at _her_.

Truthfully, she should've known that he would never forgive nor condone such reckless behavior. Not when he was so overprotective of his "people," as he sometimes called his crew.

Her silvery eyes fell. "Shepard, I . . ." she began ashamedly.

Wordlessly, he turned his attention back to the task at hand, rising out of cover just enough to free the barrel of his M-99 Saber and unleash another barrage of gunfire into their enemy's midst. So it seemed that with every drawback of his Saber, every subtle _click!_ that foretold his reloading another thermal clip, another geth's photoreceptor shattered into a million tiny pieces. Their broken bodies slumped to the ground, one after another, littering the corridor ahead with their lifeless carcasses, and Shepard merely moved onto the next target, grimly counting them as they fell with a fearful regularity . . . It was a natural and practiced motion, one he must have performed a thousand times in the past. . . . And yet, for one singular moment, Tali didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified that killing had become such an integral part of their lives. The fact that they were geth meant very little; in actuality, they could be anything and the results would still be the same. Batarian slavers, Blue Sun mercenaries, rogue asari commandos . . . It just didn't matter. Shepard could take any number of those out easily enough and without any lingering regrets.

In the meantime, a high-velocity slug whizzed by, narrowly missing his ear, and he swore loudly as he dove behind the console once again. Tali grimaced as she heard quite a few slugs impact the opposite side of their console, and she saw the sparks fly. She vainly tried to catch his eye, but he seemed to be purposely ignoring her now.

Then: "Don't worry about it," he grunted at last, still eyeing the geth over their console. Tali frowned to herself as it occurred to her how his gravelly voice was oddly devoid of emotion. _So _very_ unlike him . . ._

"No, really —" she tried again.

An abrupt idea occurred to him then and he interrupted her distractedly. "I'm, uh, really sorry, Tali, but can you hold that thought for a minute?" he asked.

He didn't even wait for an affirmative, but rather turned to Garrus almost immediately. In turn, their turian friend ducked out of cover and began to eliminate geth with an even more frightful efficiency than Shepard, courtesy of his heavily-modified sniper rifle. Tali simply huffed to herself in exasperation before she too rose from cover in order to blast a geth of her own.

"Garrus!" cried Shepard over a raucous hail of high-velocity slugs.

Garrus shot him an irritated glance as he fell back into cover. "A little busy here, Shepard!" he quickly replied. "What do you need?"

Shepard's sharp eyes flickered elsewhere. "Do you think you can flank them?" he asked loudly enough, jerking his thumb towards a previously-unnoticed ladder that blended well into an alcove behind Garrus.

The turian's eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and he nodded before they even fell squarely upon the ladder. "I can try," he told Shepard rather cheerfully, "but you'll owe me one, Shepard!"

That said, he hurriedly holstered his trusty M-92 Mantis and darted over to the ladder, trusting Shepard and Tali inexplicitly enough to cover his back while he clambered up with surprising ease.

While Tali worriedly watched him go, she couldn't help but wonder if Shepard actually knew what he was doing. So far, she hadn't seen any geth on that upper platform, but she could be mistaken . . . And if Garrus _did_ run into any geth up there, then they'd be hard-pressed to offer him any back-up.

Settled down beside her, Shepard chuckled faintly as he once again surged out of cover in order to hammer the geth with more return-fire and keep the pressure off Garrus. "In your dreams, Vakarian!" he called after their turian friend teasingly, and Garrus acknowledged this jibe by offering them a sloppy salute in return as he crawled onto the platform proper.

As he disappeared overhead, a frustrated Tali elbowed Shepard in the ribs when he finally returned to cover. He couldn't feel it through his ablative chestplate, and neither could she through her padded environ-suit, but he'd acknowledge the gesture nonetheless.

"What are you doing?" she hissed exasperatedly.

He only awarded her with a sidelong glance. "I got rid of Garrus," he said with a slight shrug. "Feel free to thank me later." Then, he paused and seemed to frown. "Now, what the hell were you thinking, Tali? You could've been killed!"

She instantly deflated. To delay the inevitable, she poked her head out of cover and fired off Chiktikka vas Paus, who immediately and almost _joyfully_ began to entice one unfortunate geth out of its cover. With a single report of his Saber, Shepard's excellent marksmanship removed the geth from the picture quite nicely.

"But I wasn't," she defended herself rather feebly. "I'm still alive. That's what counts."

Further aggravated by this answer, Shepard growled and threw a primed grenade into a cluster of geth. Part of Tali was quite satisfied with the results when it exploded.

"Don't give me that!" he rumbled. "If I hadn't pulled your ass back in, you'd be dead right now."

His overwhelming concern and the way he was so unwilling to let this issue go touched Tali deeply, despite her past misgivings, and she couldn't help but offer him a wan smile in return. Sometimes, she reflected, his most infuriating traits were also his most endearing.

"So, the great Commander Shepard was worried about me?" she asked, her tone faintly teasing.

Caught in the middle of another one of his fusillades of return-fire, Shepard glanced at her sharply. _"Worried —?"_ He saw the next slug coming and instinctively ducked, letting it harmlessly pass by his head. "Damn it, Tali! Of _course_ I was worried!"

She briefly touched his forearm. "Shepard . . . thank you," she told him softly. "But you _really_ shouldn't worry about me so much. You know I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

By then, more than half of the remaining geth had been killed. No more than half a dozen were left fighting as their collective intelligence slowly, but surely, declined. And as the words left her mouth, Garrus unleashed a barrage of doom from above upon the last geth, who scattered in confusion as they sought the direction from which this new enemy came. Looking up, Shepard and Tali were just in time to see Garrus lithely drop down from the platform and use the butt of his rifle to knock the very last geth to the ground. He then used the flat of his foot to smash its photoreceptor.

Garrus only looked up when it finally stopped twitching. "All clear!" he announced.

Shepard and Tali exchanged sheepish looks as they stood up, and Shepard ran an agitated hand over the crown of his N7 helmet in place of his tousled shock of hair.

He sighed heavily. "I know, Tali," he said quietly. "I just . . . Just try to be careful, okay? I can't lose you, too."

Truly, this rare bout of sincerity moved her, especially the way his breath kind of hitched at the end, and she desperately wanted to tell him that he wasn't going to lose her, but she knew that it would be foolhardy to promise such a thing in the middle of this war. She didn't even know if they were going to survive yet, much less _win_ against the Reapers. So, she said the next best thing.

"For you, I will," she told him, and, together, they rejoined Garrus, who was treading among the fallen geth just to guarantee that they were all actually dead. Following this and because Shepard seemed slightly more cheerful, Tali decided that her agreeable answer must have lifted his spirits.

"Good job, Garrus," he remarked pleasantly. "By my count, that's seventeen so far." He seemed so pleased with this outcome, in fact, that he tapped the side of his rifle to reveal just as much.

Tali knew that he was referring to his current kill-count, and her hand flew up in sheer disbelief to cover her visor. Keelah, Shepard could be so _unbelievably_ silly sometimes! He was a mystery, she'd certainly give him that. After all, he'd given a part of himself away just now and he was already back to his quirky self.

Garrus's face, meanwhile, seemed to brighten. "Seventeen?" he repeated slowly, almost smugly. "That's not bad for the first human Spectre. Not bad at all." He paused. "I myself am sitting on _eighteen_."

Shocked, Shepard nearly dropped his Saber. "What? No way," he said quickly, his voice full of sheer disbelief.

"You mean you don't believe me?" asked Garrus with an audible smirk. Then, he nudged a geth carcass with the toe of his foot. "We can count these things if you want."

Shepard glanced at the body. "Er . . . No. I believe you." He paused and sighed. "You may have won this battle, Garrus, but the mission's not over yet."

To show how little he actually thought of _that_ challenge, the scarred turian merely tossed his rifle up and deftly snatched it out of mid-air.

"Show-off," muttered Shepard with a small smile. "Now, come on, Vakarian. We've still got work to do." That said, Tali was rather relieved when he began to move on.

"Say whatever you like, Shepard, if it helps you sleep at night," Garrus wryly replied. Shepard just playfully shoved him away with a snort.

Tali rolled her eyes. Deep down, though, she really was glad to be back with the Normandy. Life without Shepard and Garrus just hadn't been the same. Not to mention the fact that it wouldn't have been half as entertaining.

* * *

It all happened so quickly. Tali had overridden the doors and locked them from the inside, but, in retrospect, she should've known that the geth, augmented by the Reapers' code, would be intelligent enough to override her hacks.

So, when the pocket of geth burst into the narrow chamber, chirping angrily in their synthetic language, she knows that they've been caught unprepared and that it's partially her fault. One unfortunate geth, however, somehow managed to fire off a premature rocket, which not only impacted part of the elevator's convoluted mechanism, but also took out the rest of the geth in the resultant blast. In return, the elevator shook dangerously, threateningly, and as a metallic screech rent the air, both Garrus and Tali scurried back onto the platform proper.

Their feet once more planted on relatively more-firm ground, Garrus and Tali both turned to ascertain whether or not their beloved CO had followed suit. Shepard, however, hadn't been quite as lucky.

Tali gasped as she saw that Shepard, who had been closest to the elevator controls and farthest from the platform's edge, seemed rooted to the spot in shock, and with his feet spread in order to retain balance as the elevator slowly sagged beneath him.

Inexplicitly, Tali's transported to another time, another place, when it's not _his_ life on the line, but _hers_. She's slipping, and sliding, and grasping for absolutely anything that she can cling to so she doesn't fall into the bottomless chasm below. And Shepard, her dear, dear Shepard, throws himself after her in the truest Commander-Shepard fashion, thoughtlessly and courageously risking his life for hers . . . His hand is outstretched, his fingers grasping, so close and yet so far . . . they brushed fingers once, twice, and it's only when she finally slips over the edge that he securely grabs ahold of her wrist, leaving her to dangle precariously in mid-air. "Got you," he'd said then, oh so simply, sounding so very relieved and exhausted at the same time.

She's come too far just to lose him now.

And it is with this memory firmly in mind that she crouches down, leans dangerously over the edge, and outstretches her hand towards him. "Shepard!" she cried urgently, her tone immediately and sharply biting into his attention. "Grab my hand!"

This seems to snap him out of it, those despairing times only he knows, and into action.

As the elevator sagged dangerously beneath him, Shepard staggered quickly towards her proffered hand. Her heart skipped a beat as he passed the halfway mark. Just then, the elevator fell. Shepard leaped. His middle fell across the edge with a painful_ thumph! _and the rest of his body is left swinging in mid-air. As his fingers scrambled frantically for better support, Tali grabbed his arm, steadying him. Quickly following suit, Garrus grabbed the other and helped pull him onto the platform proper.

Breathing heavily and left giddy from such a close call, Shepard breathed a sigh of relief and released a shaky laugh. "Phew," he said to them sheepishly from his sprawled-out position on the floor. "That was a little too close for comfort."

Garrus outstretched his taloned hand with the turian equivalent of a grin and hoisted Shepard to his feet. "You okay, Shepard?" he asked, a little concerned. "Still all in one piece?"

"I'm all right," Shepard replied, a little unevenly. "Just a little shaken is all." He paused and seemed to frown to himself. "I didn't get this far just to be taken out by a damn_elevator_," he went on dryly.

Needless to say, he was a little surprised when Tali, overcome with guilt and relief in equal measure, threw her arms around his middle. Emerald-green eyes wide, he patted her back awkwardly while Garrus stifled some snickers. "_Keelah_ . . . I thought I'd lost you," she murmured into his armored chest.

He drew away and held her at arm's length, quirking an inquirying eyebrow at her. "Hold on," he said slowly. "_You_ were worried?"

She knew she'd left herself open to attack before the words even left her mouth. But she chuckled faintly and tried to play it off all the same. "You bet I was!" she told him, sounding too relieved to really be effective. "You _dying_ because the geth overrode my hack?" She paused and shook her head with emphasis. "Think of my reputation!"

Shepard's eyes seemed to dance happily, and he laughed faintly. "Yeah, you were worried," he said, sounding smug. "I, uh, guess we're even now, huh?"

Tali shook her head slightly. "Agreed," she conceded rather shakily. "Now, come on. The drive core shouldn't be far." She disentangled herself from his arms reluctantly, and hated the fact that it seemed to feel colder without them wrapped securely around her.

"Yes, ma'am," he cheerfully remarked as he expertly removed the Saber from his back.

Meanwhile, Garrus was inwardly wondering why Shepard did not simply cut to the chase and compliment Tali's supportive waist and . . . shawl. The man acted almost like he didn't know that this was the quickest way to a woman's heart. Or at least, Garrus amended with a small sigh, it was in his own people's culture. One thing was for sure, though: This thinly-veiled foreplay was getting ridiculous. There was, after all, only so many times a person could secretly roll their eyes (for fear of shotgun-retribution).

He almost wished that they'd just get a room already.

* * *

He'd done it yet again. Just as she knew he would.

Though their escape had proven a rather close call, they had successfully shut down the geth dreadnought, rescued Legion, and saved her people from imminent obliteration. For the moment at the very least.

And now, she was sitting in a rather cramped cargo compartment with Shepard and Garrus as their bulky combat armor seemed to take up the most space. Ordinarily, she'd vie for more room against her two companions, but the fact that they were inside a _geth dropship_ of all things unnerved her into relative silence.

And then there was Shepard.

"I'm going to kill him," he snarled for what seemed like the hundredth time since their narrow escape.

Tali could do little more than watch him worriedly. _Shepard . . ._

To the casual observer, Shepard merely seemed abnormally grim through his N7 visor. His deeply-furrowed brow somehow revealed more than a lifetime's worth of worries, and his emerald-green eyes were bright and half-hidden by his dark, low-lying eyebrows; but she knew him better than most. If it weren't for their cramped quarters, she just_ knew_that he'd be wearing a hole through the floor with his pacing, which was something he usually did when he was upset about something or another. She was painfully aware of the fact that he had an awful habit of bottling his emotions, and burying his pain behind contagious smiles and a wry attitude. But, deep down, she knew that he was really hurting, and that there had to be something she could do to help him.

Meanwhile, with body language as such an integral part of quarian communication and culture, she had become especially attuned to his, and his currently led her to believe that he was . . . What was that human expression? Something Ken Donnelly had said once . . . 'Royally brassed off'? Yes, that sounded right. And this was especially prominent when she saw that his hands were balled tightly into fists, and she could practically feel the fury rolling off of him in waves.

In light of this and despite her dislike of him, she legitimately began to fear for Han'Gerrel's life. An angry Shepard was worse than a fully-grown krogan in a battle-rage, especially so as he grew angry so very rarely. Normally, it was what he _didn't_ say when he was upset that affected people most deeply. This rage likely stemmed from his overly-protective nature in regards to his "people" as he did not take threats to them lightly.

And while part of Tali was concerned over his sudden anger, part of her was also amused while still another was relieved. Relieved because the geth dreadnought had been successfully disabled before there were major losses, and amused because she just couldn't imagine Han'Gerrel's dismay when he found an angry Commander Shepard running him down. Normally, she'd even lend him her shotgun as a sort of blessing, but no matter how much she hated the man right now, she wouldn't say that she wanted him dead . . . Not yet, anyway.

That said, she immediately set to work calming him down before he hurt somebody (even if he'd feel terrible enough about it afterwards), and considered how ironic it was that she was saving Han'Gerrel's life without his ever knowing about it.

"Shepard," she began gently, "it's okay. Really. All of us got off safely, and nobody was hurt."

"No, Tali," he growled in return. "It's really _not_ okay. You just don't fire on a ship that's got your own people inside."

Tali sighed. Then, she shot Garrus a pointed glance, and the turian shifted uncomfortably, shaking his head slightly. Her silvery eyes narrowed and she sent him another look that quite clearly said _'do something!'_

Garrus sighed resignedly and turned to Shepard. "Shepard —" he began dubiously.

But Shepard interrupted him abruptly. "I don't want to hear it, Garrus," he growled. "That was a bad call, and you know it. No one fires on my people. No one." This seemed to remind him of how much of a breach in protocol this actually was, and his eyes darkened even further.

"I'm going to _kill_ him," he repeated a little more forcefully.

Garrus visibly deflated and shared a helpless look with Tali, who continued to watch Shepard worriedly. He was so incensed over this, sometimes she could swear that he'd been a quarian once upon a time. This kind of thinking, of putting the crew first, was common epistemology to those who'd spent their entire lives in space, aboard ships and space stations. Only these people were truly aware of how teamwork was necessary for survival.

Of course, following Shepard's latest outburst, Legion had to throw his two credits in. His face-plates, meanwhile, whirred in agitation.

"Shepard-Commander," Legion began, "that course of action is unadviseable. The organic concept known as 'murder' is most prominently frowned upon by human, asari, turian, salarian, and quarian societies."

As Legion spoke, however, Tali slipped her smaller hand into Shepard's, startling him. He looked at her pointedly, eyes wide, and she offered nothing more.

Even as she watched, she was amazed by the changes her touch had wrought upon his features. His face had softened again, his eyes had lost their sharp edge, and it was amazing that all of this was entirely her own doing. Contented, she snuggled into him despite the difficulty and laid her helmeted head on his armored shoulder.

"W-what —?" said Shepard, who had only heard part of what Legion had said. "I know, Legion. I just —" He broke off and sighed in frustration, though she noticed that he was particularly careful not to move his shoulder. "You know what? Just forget I said anything."

His fury placed on the metaphorical back-burner, he then settled down somewhat more comfortably in their cramped quarters.

Tali was particularly pleased with the fact that he didn't stir for the rest of the journey, which was a small victory in itself. Not once did he try to remove his gauntleted hand.

* * *

_**Jus In Bello**__ (definition) - Latin for "the law of waging war." (1) "The law of war is a body of law concerning acceptable justifications to engage in war (jus ad bellum) and the limits to acceptable wartime conduct (jus in bello)" (From Wikipedia). (2) "Refers to justice in war, to right conduct in the midst of battle. Responsibility for state adherence to 'jus in bello' norms falls primarily on the shoulders of those military commanders, officers, and soldiers who formulate and execute the war policy of a particular state..." (From the website of Stanford University)._

* * *

_I have already said too much on this subject. You know how I feel about such wonderfully lovely reviews. So, I will just say this: Please, read and review as reviews are verbal love._

_**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**__ If you haven't read my other fic, __**'**_**No Exit'**_ yet, I highly suggest reading it before this next chapter comes out as some minor stuff will be mentioned. No worries if you don't, but still, I thought I'd give you fair warning. In it, see if you can spot Liara's foreshadowing the future of 'To Build A Home' and where I intend to head it in regards to the game's ending._

_Following this note, I have also written two other fics that delve into this Commander Nolan Shepard universe. For those interested, I highly recommend reading (1) '_**Into The Void'**_ and (2) '_**Heart'**_. One has some Tali-fluff, the other... not so much. Excessive Joker-angst, more like._

_A heads-up for the next chapter: We'll be looking at a behind-the-scenes kinda deal that I think would've been really cool if included in-game. Also, Garrus will be taking Shepard's place for the perspective of the chapter as Shepard is kinda... unconscious. Yep. Warning: more-serious content (and not so much fluff) is ahead. :D_


	6. A Rock And A Hard Place

___Well, here it is, folks: My latest installment of _To Build A Home___. It's rather short (and LATE), but my next chapter should make up for that since, last I checked, it was 10,000 words long. ____It's excessively long, extremely late, and I will freely admit that it's almost completely rubbish. Some might say that it contains too much exposition at an inappropriate location, that I dragged it on for too long, et cetera, but I digress. Let me just say that I hate, hate, hate it already, though it serves its purpose well. I'm too lazy to go back and write a complete novelization of Mass Effect 1, 2, and 3, so I've had to cram a lot of character development into it. Ultimately, it makes for an uninteresting read, but necessarily progresses my Shep's story from point A to point B. So, if you're reading this fic for some interesting action and not so much character development, please feel free to skip this next chapter entirely. I won't blame you. I did try to make it entertaining, at least, but that's another matter altogether. My sincerest apologies, amigos. Try not to judge me too harshly, please. Now, does the fact that it's long make up for the fact that it's late, I wonder?_

_As for this chapter... I wanted to explore a few of Shepard's fears and develop his character a little more. That would be all. _

_**IMPORTANT NOTE:** If there's something you'd like to see happen in later chapters of 'To Build A Home,' be sure to shoot me a review or PM me, and I'll see if I can squeeze it into what I already have planned. No promises, of course, but I'm always open to new ideas and suggestions. I'll even be sure to give you credit for your idea._

_**REVIEWERS' NOTICE:** I have moved my review-responses/acknowledgements to the bottom of the fic due to... you know, reasons._

_Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome and appreciated. No flames, please._

* * *

**Chapter Six :**

**A Rock And A Hard Place**

**oOoOo**

"Shepard-Commander," announced Legion suddenly. "Please, proceed to the docking port."

The geth's synthetic voice filled the empty chamber with ominous intent, and Shepard only awarded him — _it_ — with a brief glance in exchange. Then, wordlessly, he did as he was asked, and stepped carefully into the pod-shaped contrivance that Legion had informally christened a 'docking port.' His heart hammered inexplicably against his chest as he did so, but he refused to believe that he was afraid.

No. He couldn't possibly be afraid of _this_. Not when he already had so many more pressing things to fear, and with the Reapers being the most prominent fear among them.

Everything else simply paled in comparison to that.

Nevertheless, fear had somehow buried itself beneath his skin and become his ever-present companion. And he was now afraid of so many things — afraid of closing his eyes for fear of what he might see in his dreams, afraid of letting his friends leave his line of sight for fear that he might not be there to save them when they needed him the most, and he was _deathly_ afraid that everything he was now doing and working towards would ultimately be in vain.

_Couldn't it already? _asked a small, almost imperceptible voice from the deepest recesses of his skull.

_No_, he wanted to scream in reply, until he's gone blue in the face. _Not yet. Not yet._

But Shepard shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge that unwelcome voice from his head. As always, he didn't allow his mind to linger upon that trail of thought for very long. And so, with one leg thrown over the barrier, his armored body half-in and half-out of the strange contraption, Shepard hesitated. He then turned to his two worried-looking squad-mates.

As it was, Tali stood nearby with her head slightly bowed, nervously wringing her hands together. Seeing that almost made him smile. _Almost_. A restless Garrus lurked behind her, gripping a primed M-15 Vindicator rifle in his talons. Like Shepard, he seemed to have taken a particular interest in the inactive geth prime units that were situated around the chamber because his keen eyes darted distrustfully from one to another.

Inwardly, Shepard sighed. He was quite aware of the fact that his lover disapproved of this mission and all he had to do. After all, she'd made _that_ painfully clear on the shuttle-ride over. But he didn't know what to make of Garrus, who had remained surprisingly mute on the subject at hand. There were simply no alternative solutions . . . or at least, none that he could see. And while he _did_ trust Legion, even going so far as to consider him a friend, much like he'd already told the quarian admirals, Shepard still wished that there was another way. Any _other_ way. Which, of course, only served to show that even Shepard _himself_ was uncomfortable with this mission, though he'd never tell any of the others that. Especially Tali.

There were just so many things that could go wrong . . . Too many unknowns in the equation. The machine could easily malfunction and trap him inside of the geth consensus, couldn't it? It sounded like something taken straight out of a horrific sci-fi vid, and yet did not seem totally impossible. . . . With his luck, anyway, it wouldn't be much of a surprise. Or it might react badly with his extensive collection of cybernetics and simply _fry_ his brain instead. _Couldn't it?_ Regardless, he couldn't help but wonder: Had the geth taken any of this into consideration?

It might not even work at all. A tiny part of himself actually hoped that this would prove to be the case, if only to save himself, and the rest absolutely _loathed_ the fact that he was thinking this at all. For wanting the easy way — no, the _coward's_ way — out.

_And I'm no coward_, he wanted to growl in reply. And kick himself while he was at it.

But he had to try . . . didn't he? For the quarians. For Tali. He _knew_ that the geth fighters were on-route to target the quarian live-ships, and, with no live-ships, the quarians would be hard-pressed to provide enough dextro-based food for themselves. A lot of innocent people would die if he just stood by and did _nothing_ . . . So, into the 'docking port' he went. Honestly, he didn't have much of a choice at all. For him, there was only one clear course of action, and that was to save the live-ships, no matter the cost.

It was what his father would have done in his place, if he was still alive, and that profound knowledge obliterated any resistance he might still have had.

Ultimately, Shepard tried to give his lover the most reassuring smile he could muster. A smile that would effectively convince her that everything was going to be okay, and that would set all of her doubts to rest, even if only temporarily. After seeing this, however, Tali took one hesitant step towards him.

"Shepard," she murmured, anxiously.

"You know me; I'll be fine," he told her quickly, and in that infuriatingly self-depreciative way of his. In other words, his voice sounded more confident than he felt, but it was his subtle tone that cinched the deal and brooked no argument. And as he spoke, his eyes flashed towards the shadowy corners of the facility, and his troubled mind fell upon the geth primes that he, too, had glimpsed on the way in.

"Just . . . be careful, okay?"

He had directed this last sentiment to Garrus, too, but Tali took it to heart, nodded reluctantly, and reached for the arc pistol at her hip. Almost immediately, he felt a rush of appreciation for her shoot up his spine.

_God, I love you_, he wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, his smile twitched approvingly.

"I'll see you soon," he promised. Then, he clambered the rest of way into the machine, into the unknown, and he did not hesitate again.

Once fully inside, he straightened, and tried to locate a comfortable position for his body. He watched in idle fascination as the door slowly sealed itself shut, completely separating him from the outside world. The world he fought so desperately for, and was quite ready to die for, if that was what it took. And despite growing up on Arcturus Station and various Alliance space-ships where small living-quarters were the norm, Shepard had always found such small, enclosed spaces uncomfortable. Now, he suddenly remembered why. They inevitably reminded him of all the times he'd been shoved into ships' vents, whirring blades and all, as a boy so he could remove pieces of debris or fix something simple that the ships' engineers couldn't reach themselves. A sudden memory struck him inexplicably, and he remembered how his mother had been so _furious_ when she found out about it, shortly after he accidentally cut himself on a rusty sheet of metal in one such vent. . . .

_But I want to help_, he had always said, even as a boy, much to his mother's chagrin. He had always been so eager to prove himself . . . Bravery. Compassion. Duty. If he had learned anything from his father, then it was that.

Shepard involuntarily shuddered as he recalled that particular memory.

"Mapping to consensus . . ." informed Legion. "Remain still."

Suddenly and without warning, many small lights flickered on inside of the 'docking port,' and they momentarily blinded Shepard, who swore quietly to himself. As his eyes slowly adjusted, however, he began to look around in an effort to learn _what in the hell was happening_. He hadn't exactly been told what to expect, after all. Interestingly enough, several beams of light repeatedly bounced from his head to his toes, and it occurred to him then that they must be scanning him. Maybe processing his physical dimensions? His mass, weight, height, and so on? He knew that some medical equipment could perform similar tasks, but this . . . Shepard didn't know about _this_, and he didn't particularly care.

In the past, he had always liked working with his hands more than he'd ever liked the paperwork of his profession, but the extent of his mechanical ability was rather limited to the calibration, maintenance, and repair of vehicles such as the M29 Grizzly and M35 Mako, though Garrus and Cortez could probably perform those tasks much better than he could anyway. Nonetheless, calibration, maintenance, and repair were all elements of the same kind of work, and it was one that he thoroughly enjoyed doing when he had the time. Lately, though, he'd been too starved for time to even contemplate popping the hood of their shuttle. But it was as comforting as it was simple; just find what's wrong and then fix it. As if life could ever be that easy.

Now, his only problem lay in the fact that he _wasn't_ working on an M35 Mako, or even an old M29 Grizzly. In fact, the geth contrivance he currently found himself in somehow made the Mako seem as outdated and primitive as the prehistoric wheel. And he just didn't know what to do with that information.

He didn't really know what to do, _period_.

He was just a _soldier_, for Christ's sake! He wasn't paid to know the how's or the why's of a mission; he was paid for _results_, to obediently carry out orders and finish the mission to the best of his discretion, which was _exactly_ what he was doing now. Although . . . Tali would know, wouldn't she? She was a technological prodigy, after all; if she didn't know how it all worked, then he didn't know who would. And so, for one singular moment, he almost wished that he could ask her.

"Shepard-Commander," Legion broke in abruptly. "Excess movement during an upload is highly discouraged."

Shepard's frown deepened as Legion's sudden outburst disrupted his rather haphazard stream of thoughts. In all honesty, he was very confused; he just didn't know how he should feel about being _uploaded into a goddamn computer_.

"Er . . . Copy that."

Shepard replied a little too unevenly, but then devoted himself completely to the task at hand by staying still as Legion had instructed. He wanted to fidget, to scratch the bridge of his nose because it itched, but instead locked his muscles and joints in place despite his body's instinctual warning not to do so under _any_ circumstances. A reaction that was only an inadvertant side effect of the N7 program.

Regardless, he did manage to stop moving his head around, and instead fixed his gaze through the docking port's observation window. He had a faint idea that it would be better if he just focused upon something else, anything else, instead of what was really going on. Both Garrus and Tali were looking at him worriedly, and he soon began to feel like an insect situated under a microscope. A science experiment yet again, and it hardly mattered for whom.

He just wanted them to _stop, stop staring, stop worrying,_ and this realization annoyed him more than it probably should have.

"Great," he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. "Now, I just feel violated again." As he had been by Liara on the SSV Normandy, by Cerberus during the Lazarus Project, by the Council in their denial, and all in the name of _progress_. He did _try_ to keep this small, rather childish complaint to himself, but Legion evidently heard him anyway.

"Shepard-Commander," chastised the geth, disapprovingly. Or, at least, as disapproving as it could possibly get with a voice that lacked such emotional inflection.

"Right. Sorry."

Shepard didn't sound very sorry at all as he bit out his retort, but he nevertheless resolved to offer no more resistance. He settled down more comfortably and decided to wait for whatever was going to happen, to . . . well, _happen_.

His eyes began to follow row after row of flickering lights for a time. As annoying as they were, though, he also found them oddly comforting. _Consistent_. He refused to move his head even the slightest inch now for fear of Legion's reprimands, and, under the circumstances, he was fairly proud of his self-control.

He listened to the dull thrum of the machine as it gradually gained power, and blocked out all other sound. Against his better judgment, he closed his eyes and allowed it to lull him into a false sense of security. . . .

And then, suddenly, he was gone.

* * *

_I know I said that this chapter would focus upon Garrus, but... I really couldn't resist adding a dash of Nolan. Sorry about that. Garrus will be the star of the next chapter, I promise!_

_*sigh* I know, I know. "Morrigan Disapproves -50," right?_

**Acknowledgements:**

___**1.** **timbryanscott**_: Let me just say that your review totally made my day, bro! So many positives... and I'm especially glad that you like my version of everything. As I said in the first chapter, my intention here is to develop the Shepard/Tali romance into something more, make it a little more dynamic and interesting as befits my personalized Shepard. In effect, I want this fic to reflect not only BioWare's version of Commander Shepard as he was in-game, but my own fabricated Shepard, too, with all of his faults and failings. That's why it may seem like I'm just taking the core game, and then adding to it. And I reacted pretty much the same way to Gerrel's decision; I didn't understand why Shepard could be so cool with it... except for, of course, Renegade!Shepard's violent approach. Gerrel could have killed them all by firing upon the dreadnought before they escaped. So, I sorta filled in my version about how he'd calmed down enough to accept it. Because, in my mind, Tali softened him up a bit first.

_**2. **____**chidoriprime** : _Thanks, man. I'm still glad that you like my version of things so far, and I'm looking forward to reading your BioShock fic. I kinda wish I hadn't killed that one little sister in my playthrough (I just wanted to see what would happen...) so I could've gotten the 'good' ending, too. I had to look all of the endings up on YouTube instead. Bummer.

___**3.** __****__**Tattoo'd**__:_ Haha! I thought you'd appreciate that part especially, Minion! I don't know much about fluff, but I do know that your reviews always do my ol' heart good.

_____**4. **____**Reaver107**: _Nah, man. That was just my way of explaining why Shepard strangely seemed so cool with Gerrel's decision. He didn't blow up in Gerrel's face because he had Tali to calm him down beforehand. Much better than that unexplained "Yo, Gerrel, we cool. I know you tried to kill me and my buds just now, but that's all water under the bridge, man." I mean, seriously? I just... I don't even...

_______**5.** ____**TW6464**: __Ha! You just don't have the right teacher, man. That, and then there's the lovely fact that public high schools just suck in general. Mine did, at least. I assume you went to one, too, as they are the most popular form of childhood education. To be fair, though, I've got a D going for me in Calculus right now, so... yeah. I'm not one to talk._

___**6. MasterHollow**:_ Congratulations on calling me out for that reference, sir/madam! I'll admit that I was heavily inspired by 'The Lord Of The Rings' for the part you mentioned because I happen to be a die-hard fan of Legolas and Gimli's bromance. If you keep reading, you might just catch some other references I have planned as well. I am, as ever, glad that you love my story so far, and hope to see more awesome reviews from you.

___**7. 00Dunno00**: _No problem, man. I know everybody needs a little cheering up now and then. Or I know I do, at least. In terms of this fic... well, I'll try to have it live up to your expectations. No promises, of course.

___**8. t**__**reehuger90**:_ W-what? Running out of compliments? No, no, no. I always find myself looking forward to your kindly reviews, my friend. Please, keep them coming! On another note, 'To Build A Home' will follow one of BioWare's canon endings, though I have... tweaked it a bit in a way that's made it a little more interesting. Please, see my fic 'I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream' for details. If you keep giving me such awesome reviews, however, I will be sure to write the AU fic I mentioned, which I have dubbed 'Happily-Ever-After Compliant'. Hopefully, the fluff in that should balance out the angst I have planned here and in other fics I have written, which I've gotten 'pulled over' by the so-called 'happiness police' for. No joke. Ahem. Anyway, 'To Build A Home' is sorta my... therapy for the actual endings, and I'm writing it this way so I can accept them, I guess. I preordered the Limited Edition of Mass Effect 3, and I began brain-storming this story almost immediately after I beat it for the first time because I was so heavily disappointed. I don't think I even bothered to finish my playthrough as FemShep either. Lol.

___**9. Vocarin**:_ Wow... Thank you for your lengthy and overwhelmingly positive review, my friend! I'm glad that you like my take on things thus far, and I hope that this continues to be the case. I'll certainly try to have the rest of 'To Build A Home' live up to everyone's expectations. I know my writing tends to be a bit more "flowery" as some would say, but that is only because I wanted to add more well-written stories to this awesome website. Nothing irks me more than those fics that certainly don't lack in imagination, but certainly do in the areas of grammar and spelling. In my honest opinion, nothing ruins a good fic more than that. A handful of errors in any story is understandable and forgiveable, but when there are recurring and even simplistic errors, then I can't help but stop reading so I can find a better story to read. Anyway, onto addressing your more pressing concerns. I'm sorry about the last chapter, but I did want to keep my fic fairly consistent with the game as you said. And as for Garrus... well, I hope this next chapter more than makes up for his being too passive in the last few chapters. Overall, I suppose that this next chapter will be my sorry attempt at trying to make up for these little hiccups you mentioned and I sincerely hope they don't deter you from the rest of the story.

_________________**10. A**__**nonymous Reviewer 10/18/12**: Ah, seems to me that you must be a fan of Renegade!Shep then. I'll admit that I never liked Renegade Shepard much beyond the lovely fact that s/he is a jerk to nearly EVERYONE. I only played through the Mass Effect series as a Renegade once, and that was more or less for amusement as you can probably tell by my Renegade's name... 'German'. Heh. As for me, and my Shepard in a way, I tend to be a more diplomatic person, more closely aligned to being a Paragon than a Renegade, and I think this fic should reflect that. In my honest opinion, the ends should never justify the means... which, of course, is a philosophy reminiscent of utilitarianism and of Cerberus. Tyranny of the majority, and all that. To quote a Reaper, please, "observe the results." And... do you really want me to kill off Tali?_

_**11. Xerox98**: Erm... don't do drugs, kids! And that's all I have to say about that. But, seriously, thank you._

_**12. fantasyra**: Thank you! Well done, yourself._

_**13. Redstoneguy**: I know, right!? Stupid AIs... You'd think James would be able to handle a beating like a tank, but of course not. Awww... I liked Jenkins. He was so excitable, it was rather adorable._

_**14. Anonymous Reviewer 2/17/13**: 'F' for 'fantastic,' right? Or... 'flippin' insanely awesome terrific wonderful,' at least?_


	7. Far From Refuge

_Hello again, everyone. Disregarding my last chapter, I know I haven't updated this fic for several months and, for that, I apologize. The sheer length of this chapter made it difficult to write and edit, and so I broke it up into this chapter and the last one (which was originally going to be a part of this one). If you've read other multi-chapter fics before, then you should be aware that this chapter will be one of those necessarily boring, uneventful, and conversation-centric chapters, if only to speed the character-development process along. _

_**REVIEWERS' NOTICE :** I repeat, acknowledgements and review-responses will now be located at the bottom of each chapter._

___Also, these author notes are starting to become ridiculously long, so I'm going to try and tone it down some. Maybe even edit some of the past chapters out. Nobody ever came here to read my rants; they want to see some Shepard/Tali action!_

_Anyway, I really do hate this chapter. It started out with a whoppin' 10,000 words, and I've whittled it down some, but it hasn't done anyone much good. I feel like I dragged it on for too long, that it possesses too much exposition at an inappropriate location, and I've been unable to re-write it in a way that I like. Believe me, I tried. I'll admit, I really got tired of looking at this one. That's (more or less) why I've decided to publish it as-is, come what may. I had to soldier on through this one before I could carry on with the fic. _

_So, again, my apologies, amigos. I did try to make it interesting, at least. If you'd like to look on the bright side, this fic should take a decidedly AU turn after the Tali-centric missions on Rannoch. Some chapters will, again, be based upon in-game scenes, expanding upon what we've already seen, while others will be strictly AU. Why? Because there can never be too much Shepard/Tali fluff in the world, amirite? If there's a specific scene that you'd like to see expanded upon, just let me know and I'll see about including it. Chances are, I already have plans for it, but it wouldn't hurt to be doubly sure that I've covered everything. _

* * *

**Chapter Seven :**

**Far From Refuge**

**oOoOo**

Both Garrus and Tali noticed Shepard slump forward, simultaneously. They saw the knotted tension in his weary face ease away into a more relaxed expression, which was faintly reminiscent of sleep, and they knew that he was no longer consciously present.

Almost immediately afterwards, Garrus heard Tali inhale sharply. He _tried_ not to be too concerned himself, but he failed rather miserably at that — _(Failed, like so many other things)._ He was simply too preoccupied with what the device was capable of doing, and the fear left him feeling more than a little uneasy about the entire situation. Especially when he had already glimpsed several, inactive geth prime units situated around the facility. Still, he conceded, his misgivings were probably nothing compared to Tali's.

In the meantime, Legion closed his omni-tool and raised his head so he could properly regard Tali and Garrus.

"Shepard-Commander has successfully infiltrated the geth consensus," he informed them, without any outstanding display of emotion. "Now, we must join him."

The two squad-mates then turned to each other and exchanged a knowing look. Though her polarized visor shielded almost the entirety of her face from his view, Garrus still knew Tali better than most, and he could sense that she was anxious and . . . not really functioning at her best. Under the (admittedly, dire) circumstances, anyway, he couldn't exactly blame her for disliking their geth ally. So, as her shipmate, her comrade-in-arms, and, most importantly, her _friend_, he decided to let his voice speak for her as well.

He nodded, slowly. "Thank you, Legion," he replied as evenly as he could. "We'll just . . . sit tight until you two are done, then."

The geth nodded its acknowledgment, and then promptly lowered its head, stiffened its body, and allowed its "flash-light" to fade into darkness as it, too, presumably joined the consensus. For one, rather inane, moment, Garrus was struck by how much Legion resembled Shepard's beloved mech-dog whenever it entered one of its many "sleep-mode" episodes around the _SR-2 Normandy_, and he wondered, briefly, how quickly their companions would return to the physical realm, and their respective bodies, should he and Tali find any unwelcome visitors on their hands.

_They'd better_, Garrus thought, if their squad had any hope of fending off an attack long enough to retreat.

Although he knew that he probably shouldn't, that he should just leave things be, Garrus, nonetheless, hesitantly began to approach the unsuspecting geth. He passed his rifle off to one hand, and then waved the other in front of Legion's darkened optical, hoping for some kind of response. Normally, it would activate and track the movement as the optical lens focused upon him, a potential threat, but, this time, there was no response. None.

_Just as I expected_, he thought to himself, sullenly. So, it seemed that nothing short of the synthesized gurgle of enemy geth, a burst of gunfire, and a genuine threat to their lives would compel Legion to return to his body again. _Hopefully._ Garrus turned away with a disgruntled sigh, and was rather . . . glad that Tali wasn't looking.

"Well, Tali, looks like it's just you and me now," he remarked, uneasily. And when the turian ex-vigilante turned back to Tali, he shouldn't have been very surprised (and somewhat . . . _disappointed?)_ to find that her concentration rested squarely upon Shepard's prone form.

_Just like . . . well, old times._

Instead of lingering upon that one fact, however, Garrus broke into a leisurely walk across their small stretch of walkway, as a sort of patrol to occupy his mind, expelling those unwanted thoughts in the process, and his keen eyes pierced the shadows of the dimly-lit chamber easily, in search of enemy geth. While Legion had already assured them that he could detect no active platforms nearby, and that they were relatively safe, Garrus's thoughts still remained upon the geth primes he'd seen, and so he stubbornly refused to lower his rifle, even for the briefest of seconds.

'Better safe than sorry' was, after all, a human saying that had always served him well in the past. There was no reason for it to fail now.

At that thought, Garrus chuckled, nervously. "I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you that I'm glad you're here," he went on; out of some misguided hope that small-talk would not only lend him that much-needed sense of normalcy, but also soothe his frayed nerves. "Back with the Normandy, I mean. My life just wouldn't be complete if I hadn't run into you one last time, Tali."

With this said, he awarded her with the turian equivalent of a grin, because, unlike what he'd said before to Jack at Grissom Academy, he actually meant it this time.

_Well . . . back for the moment, at least. _

His smile slipped slightly as he amended the thought, secretly. He suddenly remembered the previous night-cycle, which was forced to the forefront of his mind, when he'd looked to the bunk next to his, which was traditionally Tali's, and found it startlingly empty. He'd been disappointed then in a way he couldn't quite explain, and he really didn't know what he would have done if he'd found a stranger lying in her bunk instead. The very idea seemed wrong; repulsive. It had been so easy for his restless mind, forgetting the past few months. . . .

Then again, this reunion certainly seemed temporary. Tali was an admiral now, after all. She had pressing responsibilities, an unnecessary war on her hands, and, more importantly, she was dutybound to her people, officially. She couldn't just run off and join yet another one of Shepard's supposedly suicidal missions, like last time . . . and yet he still found himself hoping that she'd stay. Just for awhile, at least. Next to Shepard, Tali was one of his oldest, dearest friends, and he trusted her, unconditionally.

Besides that, Garrus had never seen Shepard so reluctant, almost heartbrokenly so, to let Tali go when it came time for her and Shala'Raan to return to the _Tombay_ for a few hours of rest. It had almost _physically_ hurt to see him that way. Raan, however, had seemed fairly insistent upon giving her crew a much-needed reprieve as they were "running on fumes," or so Tali had said, and Raan herself needed to finalize strategy with Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris now that the dreadnought had been destroyed. To do so, they'd had to pilot the _Tombay _back behind quarian lines, where it was still relatively safe. They couldn't stay because, even with all of her technological advancements, the _SR-2 Normandy_ could cloak her own emissions, but not the quarians' as well.

At least, with the dreadnought destroyed, this facet of the war seemed to be nearing its conclusion, however glorious or appalling it would be, and Garrus found some comfort in that, which was jarred when Tali finally turned around and met his expectant eyes.

"Thanks, Garrus," she said, sounding as relieved and thankful as he felt. "I really wasn't joking when I said that it was good to be back." He couldn't see it, of course, but, judging by her tone of voice, he would've bet his entire vigilante salary _(or fifty per cent of it, at the very least)_ that she was flashing him a friendly smile from behind her mask. So, he happily returned the gesture.

"You . . . look well," she continued, awkwardly, likely in pursuit of that same sense of normalcy that eluded him still. Then, suddenly, all of her strength seemed to leave her, and she wilted like a flower on a particularly hot day, which was something that Tali wasn't known for doing.

"I . . . heard about Palaven, Garrus, and I'm sorry," she explained, apologetically; sounding almost as if she blamed herself for the tragedy. "I hope . . . Did your family at least make it out?"

At mention of his estranged family, Garrus's expression darkened immediately, and the grip on his rifle instinctively tightened. It was such an innocent question, really, and she was truly concerned, but . . . her question with-held serious implications for him, and he didn't really like to linger upon them for very long. They only led to the formulation of 'what-if' scenarios in his head, and those somehow compounded his grief considerably.

"I . . . don't know," he told her, slowly. Then, he looked away. "Last I heard, they were still stranded on Palaven."

At that, a small gasp slipped through Tali's hidden lips, and, from her position near Shepard, she extended a sympathetic hand towards him, which Garrus promptly ignored in favor of his patrol. It had suddenly become so much more interesting than it had been mere minutes ago . . . Infinitely more interesting than looking at her and seeing the pity clearly written in her luminescent eyes.

"Oh, Garrus . . . " she murmured. "I'm so sorry."

He said nothing in return. He merely swung his rifle around for another lap, and its tactical light dispelled the encroaching darkness ahead, illuminating his path forward.

"Yeah. Well, don't be," he said at last, gruffly. "It's not your fault."

Inwardly, he added, with a slight twinge of resentment: _I just hope that I live to see the day when the Reapers finally pay for everything they've done. It'll be one hell of a sight. . . ._

He didn't stop patrolling, and, as an awkward silence fell over them, Garrus desperately wanted to bypass this absurdity by returning the niceties, by asking about her family in return. But then . . . Tali's family was already gone, wasn't it? She was alone now. Or . . . No, not alone, he amended; she still had him and Shepard, at least, and Shala, too, though she seemed to be more of a superior admiral to Tali nowadays than honorary aunt. And as he settled upon this one thought, a cold hand passed over Garrus's heart. Tali had always been the most cheerful and enthusiastic person that he'd ever known . . . She definitely didn't deserve the cruel hand that she'd been dealt. But then again, who exactly deserved a cycle of extinction?

Inexplicably, that last thought sparked another. Slowly, so slowly, his thoughts drifted towards the ongoing war, and the Reapers, and, then, there was absolutely nothing left to say but _"I'm sorry"_ over and over again, or at least until the words lost their meaning in repetition, because nothing they tried was enough to slow the Reaper advance.

To her credit, Tali seemed to be as uncomfortable as he felt about their prolonged silence, and so she quietly grappled for something to say. Something — anything, really — to fill the awful void in their hearts. She cast an anxious glance towards Shepard, then, and knew immediately that she'd stumbled upon a more than suitable topic for discussion.

"Do you really think he's joined the geth consensus?" she finally asked, rather dubiously.

Garrus followed her gaze, and frowned when his own eyes fell upon Shepard's lifeless form. If he hadn't known, he might have mistaken his friend's stillness for death, and that thought disturbed him greatly.

"Why not?" he countered, evenly. Then, he shrugged. "Stranger things have happened." Here, Garrus paused, and stole an apprehensive look at Tali.

"Do you remember Project Overlord?" he asked, carefully.

He knew that it was a stupid question; of course Tali remembered. She couldn't have forgotten that horrifying incident so quickly, and, even if she miraculously had, then he certainly hadn't. _Spirits,_ he still remembered.

After Shepard was unexpectedly "hacked" by the rogue AI, later known as David Archer, and sent stumbling out the door, Garrus had been forced to restrain Tali so as to prevent her from hurting herself. If he hadn't, she would have thrown herself time and again against the unyielding door, and all out of sheer, mindless desperation to reach Shepard because David was more intelligent than they'd originally given him credit for. By rerouting all of the power that coursed through their room, the AI had effectively crippled Tali and rendered her technological ability completely useless. The heavy, metalloid door would simply not open without any power.

Of course, she had calmed down long enough for him to signal the Normandy, but she only returned to her normal self when Shepard finally came back, grim-faced and stormy. He quickly explained all that there was to know about Dr. Archer and his brother, David, and then told them that they would be rescuing David from Cerberus. With no more Cerberus ties to bind him, he felt no qualms about taking David to Grissom Academy, where he would be provided for by the Systems Alliance. But that was another story altogether, and it wasn't what troubled Garrus the most. If not for Shepard's extensive collection of cybernetics, Garrus didn't believe that David would have been able to hack his friend in the first place. And he couldn't help but wonder if they were playing an equally important role in this mission as well, because it struck a similar vein.

Tali, evidently, remembered Project Overlord more than she cared to admit, because she shook her head and groaned, miserably. "Ugh," she muttered. "Don't remind me."

Garrus released a humorless chuckle in return, and said, "Suit yourself." _(Pun intended.)_

He had missed Tali. There was no denying that.

Tali then turned back to Shepard and sighed. As Garrus watched, her silvery eyes seemed to soften as they fell upon Shepard's prone form once again, and he was sorely tempted to comment upon her supposedly debilitating weakness for their peerless commander. A weakness that had, in the past, become painfully obvious mere weeks after he, Wrex, and Tali joined the crew of the _SSV Normandy,_ and which only intensified after Shepard's apparent death.

Against his better judgment, however, and though it would have been a wonderful opportunity to diffuse a rather tense situation, Garrus chose to say nothing. Now, he felt, was simply not the time for friendly banter. Especially when Tali's nerves were likely fried enough as it was.

"How is he, Garrus?" asked Tali, softly, and her synthesized voice was filled with audible concern.

For a moment, Garrus hesitated, weighing the options in his head. He did not, after all, want to worry her still further with news of Shepard's downward spiral when she was already on-edge. At the same time, however, he did not want to lie and say that Shepard was fine when Garrus knew, possibly more than anyone else did, that he was most definitely _not_ okay. In all honesty, none of them were. Nonetheless, he inexplicably remembered Liara's story and how far Shepard had fallen into his despair, tearing open his hand in the process. Liara had told him all about the bloody shards of glass she'd seen in Shepard's bathroom, and how worried she was about his state of mind. Even Garrus himself had noticed a slight change in Shepard's behavior — He was erratic, on-edge, and, for all intent and purposes, tail-spinning. It only led Garrus to believe that if the Reapers didn't kill his friend, then this all-out war effort certainly would. But he was never that way on missions. Then, he was clear-headed and focused. Maybe a little too focused. Sometimes, it was downright scary. But . . . how could Garrus ever tell Tali that?

Eventually, Garrus made up his mind, lowered his rifle, and sighed heavily. "Honestly? Not so well, Tali. The war's been taking its toll on all of us, but it's been rough on him especially. He's . . . "

Here, again, Garrus paused.

_Shepard's what, exactly?_ he asked himself, thoughtfully. _What a loaded question . . ._

After all, his friend was many things, but, at the end of the day, he still bled the same way, even if the color was different. That meant he could die. Just like Garrus himself could. Shepard wasn't invincible, no matter how much his old friend wished it were so (which would certainly make life one hell of a lot easier). As it was, the war was more than taking its toll upon him; it was killing him, slowly. One only had to bypass Shepard's cleverly-fabricated façade to see that he was bending, cracking, drowning, _dying._ Since Palaven, Shepard was slowly deteriorating in appearance. He no longer regularly shaved the strange hair that grew on his face, or made his usual rounds checking in on the crew. Again, Garrus was absolutely terrified that if this war carried on for an extended period of time, then it would end up killing his friend, who had already poured too much of himself into the conflict. It was an anomaly that he'd witnessed several times before, to turian command, during the course of his military career. So, he squarely met Tali's gaze and answered honestly.

"He's breaking, Tali," he said, quietly. Almost as if he was half-afraid that Shepard himself might hear.

In response, Tali closed her eyes and turned away from Shepard. She guiltily began to pace the dimly-lit chamber, which was a habit she had, no doubt, picked up from Shepard himself. Even Garrus couldn't deny that his quirky mannerisms were slightly contagious. As she did so, she swiped at her visor in a gesture that was faintly reminiscent of someone wearily massaging their temples.

_Oh, crap._

"Keelah, I shouldn't have left," she mumbled, and Garrus wasn't entirely sure who she was talking to, anymore: Him or herself. "I should have stayed. I _should_ have been there for him. . . ."

He mentally berated himself for stupidly sending her sense of selflessness into overdrive, and quickly decided to make amends.

To remedy the situation, he closed the distance that remained between them, and placed one heavy hand upon her shoulder as means of encouragement. When she looked up, he offered his most reassuring smile. His scar, however, may have forced it into an ugly grimace, unfortunately.

"If it means anything," he began, slowly, "having you here helps, I think. He's started to smile again, so . . . it's a start, Tali."

Tali only continued to worry. She shook her head in disgust and stalked away to pace some more. Now, left with nothing to support his arm, Garrus reluctantly let his hand drop.

"Thank you, Garrus," she went on, "but there's still something I don't understand. Earlier, when we were on the geth dreadnought . . . Shepard said something about being unable to lose me, _too."_

_'Too'?_

At that, Garrus froze. He now knew exactly where this conversation was headed, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. And as if that wasn't enough, Tali then turned her expectant eyes upon him.

_Damn it. . . ._

Elaboration was unnecessary. He knew what she was asking of him, and yet he was still reluctant to voice any answers. Hadn't he proven his loyalty already? Their deaths were still too fresh, too painful . . . Discussing it would only make their deaths more final, tearing open wounds that hadn't completely healed yet in the process. Nobody on the Normandy had to mention their names; they seemed to hang on the air between, out of sight, but never out of mind for very long.

Tali, however, did not appreciate his prolonged silence upon the subject.

"Garrus, who did we lose?" she asked, pleadingly.

Garrus's mandibles twitched. He tried to find the right words, to dull the blow, but they eluded him. Like always. He was no Commander Shepard, but he went ahead anyway.

"Mordin's dead, Tali. Thane, too."

His voice was harsh. Guttural. He sounded like he hadn't spoken in years. Mordin and Thane had been friends of his, and their deaths were still painfully felt by all who had known them, but none more so than Shepard. And now, Tali knew that, too.

Tali's hands flew to her mouth-piece, visibly horrified, and her luminescent eyes widened. "Oh, Keelah!" she exclaimed. "I . . . I didn't know."

Garrus didn't find that very surprising. Tali hadn't been down to the crew deck since the Normandy's renovation. Mostly kept to the CIC and the War Room with Shala'Raan and Legion. She hadn't yet seen their makeshift memorial, dedicated to the fallen, which would have displayed more names if it hadn't been for Shepard — a sentiment that Garrus would hold onto until his dying day, however soon it was. Having served in the Turian Hierarchy's military, and consequently having been exposed to the galaxy's worst commanders, Garrus could certainly appreciate an excellent leader like Shepard. With his contemporaries in mind, he simply seemed to shine all the brighter. Because of Akuze, he was especially dedicated to his crew, and knew, like all experienced military leaders, that some missions just weren't worth the lives of his squad-mates. Then, for crucial missions like the one they currently faced, he tried to support them with everything he had, giving his all. And _that_ mattered.

"Well, they didn't exactly broadcast it on the news," he told her, helplessly. And they probably hadn't. Garrus already knew from his days spent at C-Sec that galactic media rarely covered all the gory little details of a story. In the end, the galaxy at large would not miss an elderly salarian scientist and repentant drell assassin — two heroes who hadn't received the recognition that they rightfully deserved.

He decided to explain before she deigned to ask. Gritting his teeth, he began, reluctantly, "Mordin . . . sacrificed himself so that the krogan would be cured of the genophage. It was the only way." Something he had been telling himself, over and over again, since Tuchunka, but with no tangible results.

Tali's eyes dimmed, and Garrus, of course, didn't blame her for her sentimentality; she'd been one of the first to befriend the salarian scientist when they were still intent on taking down the Collectors. "And Thane?" she asked, quietly.

Instinctively, Garrus clenched his taloned hands into fists, and his mandibles snapped, menacingly. "Thane died protecting the salarian councilor on the Citadel when Cerberus attacked," he explained, darkly. "Some _cowardly_ assassin killed him, Tali. I wish — I wish I'd shot the bastard when I had half the chance. I mean, I _could_ have. I was only a second too slow—"

At that, Tali sighed, heavily. "Shepard probably wishes the same thing," she said, unhappily. Then, she moved away again, rubbing furiously at her visor, and Garrus watched her go, helplessly. "Keelah . . ."

She finally stopped in front of Shepard, and her eyes lingered upon him, worriedly. "Why is this happening?" she asked, softly. "Why is everything just falling apart?"

_Huh?_

Garrus blinked. Although he was half-certain that Tali was only talking to herself, he had silently asked himself that very same question many times in the past few weeks, and the most troubling thing about it was that it had no discernible answers. As such, he certainly sympathized with her, mostly because, Spirits, he knew what it was like. Tali had likely spent the last few weeks with her people as they prepared for an all-out war. As an admiral (and an inexperienced one at that), she couldn't afford to voice her fears, or even prepare an argument against Han'Gerrel's conflict. She had to remain strong for appearances' sake and _never_ be the cause of any dissent among the Migrant Fleet. Sometimes, he wondered if she was too selfless for her own good. He had always told her that she was more than welcome to talk to him about anything, however, and this certainly seemed like a prime time for doing just that. It was likely one of the only moments they'd have to themselves for a while, and he was determined to make the most of it.

So, Garrus sighed, resignedly. "I, uh, don't know, Tali. I really don't. But . . . I do like to think that everything happens for a reason." Somehow, saying that struck a nerve within him, and he then remembered how firmly his father had always stood by the belief that people only ever went through difficulties, challenges, to make themselves stronger. _That's why it's worth it,_ his father would say, through his crusty demeanor, and that familiar image pained Garrus more than anything else possibly could.

But Tali disagreed. "No, Garrus," she said, shaking her head slowly. "There is no reason for _this."_

Part of him actually wanted to agree with her. Nothing justified a cycle of extinction. Absolutely nothing. Monsters that lurked in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to destroy all life . . . A childish nightmare brought into being. They just weren't supposed to be _real._ He couldn't shake the feeling that there shouldn't be something like the Reapers, or . . . _husks,_ he thought with a shudder. Still, maybe his father was right. Maybe. . . .

As Garrus opened his mouth to bite out another retort, however, intermittent static began to fill their ear-pieces, signalling to them that someone on their frequency was about to speak. Garrus closed his mandibles abruptly so that he might listen, and Tali turned away from him, her fingers flying to the controls of her ear-piece, which was located on an exterior part of her helmet.

_"Hello? Commander, are you there?"_

After a second of deliberation, Garrus recognized the voice as belonging to Admiral Shala'Raan, and he frowned to himself, thoughtfully.

"Shepard's . . . working on shutting down the server, Admiral Raan," Tali supplied, quickly. She almost sounded grateful for the interruption. "I can fill you in."

_Good cover, Tali,_ Garrus thought, somewhat proudly. As it was, Raan didn't know the specifics of their mission, and everyone preferred it that way. The logic for that decision was sound, at least. If Tali had reacted as strongly as she had to their debriefing with Legion, then there was no telling how Raan, or any of the other admirals, might react.

_"The geth squadrons have arrived, but . . . something is amiss,"_ explained Raan, fretfully. _"Some of their fighters have stopped functioning. However, we will continue to hold out for as long as we possibly can."_

"Keelah sel'ai," Tali concluded, sounding somewhat relieved. "Thank you, Admiral."

With that said, their frequency fell deathly silent, leaving Garrus and Tali to feel even more impossibly alone. For his own part, Garrus sympathetically watched Tali forlornly withdraw her fingers from her ear-piece. He'd noticed, in their communication, that Shala'Raan had lacked the common courtesy to return Tali's niceties. A small matter, perhaps, because the Migrant Fleet currently had their hands full with the geth, but, still, it irked him to some degree that she would callously overturn Tali's compassionate nature.

It irked him so much, actually, that he tried to compensate. "Sounds like you're getting better at this," he offered, helpfully. "And whatever Shepard's doing . . . well, it's working."

For lack of anything better to do, Tali readjusted her visor, nervously. "I know," she replied, quietly. "I just. . . ." She drifted off, slowly. Instead, to emphasize her point (or rather, _lack_ thereof), she made a helpless gesture directed towards Shepard.

Obviously, something was still bothering her, and it was enough to make Garrus frown. "What is it?" he asked, audibly concerned. "What's wrong? Tali, you know you can tell me anything." Truth be told, he was rather hurt that he had to remind her of that fact at all.

_What happened to 'no secrets between shipmates' . . . ?_

Tali shook her head, frustratedly. She almost seemed . . . torn, between confiding in him whatever-it-was and in keeping it a closely-guarded secret. In retrospect, he was glad that she trusted him enough to share her fears.

Eventually, she shot Shepard a surreptitious glance. As if to reassure herself that he was still unconscious and, therefore, not listening. "I . . . know that they're the only things keeping him alive," Tali began, reluctantly, and in a voice hardly above a whisper, "but . . . How do we know for certain that Shepard's cybernetics aren't a threat? Not just to us, either, but to him, too. I mean . . . Garrus, I've seen the x-rays. Technically, he's more machine than man." She spoke quickly, almost guiltily, and, when she finished fumbling with her words, nervously, she began to fumble with her arc pistol instead.

Garrus considered her words. When he didn't reply right away, she peered at him, oddly. "He . . . Doesn't that bother you?" she finished, worriedly, seeking confirmation for her own irrational fears.

Frankly, Garrus was astounded that her thoughts seemed to mirror his so closely. That is, regarding Shepard's cybernetics, anyway. Still, he'd be damned to voice his doubts so near to their peerless commander and Legion, in an unfamiliar locale. To be fair, though, if he truly worried about secrecy, then he ought to be more afraid of speaking openly on the _SR-2 Normandy_, where EDI could easily eavesdrop upon any conversation they might have. So, this was probably the right place and right time to hold a private conversation, after all.

He met her gaze, warily. "I'm not sure if I follow you, Tali," he said, slowly.

She sighed, inaudibly, before reaching for the controls of her ear-piece, apparently turning off all outward communication. Likewise, Garrus followed suit. Now, because of the docking port's thick casing, even Shepard would be hard-pressed to overhear them.

"I'm afraid, Garrus," she told him, dejectedly. "I've been afraid ever since Project Overlord."

"Why?"

To that, she made another helpless gesture. "It's stupid, I know, but I . . . What if Shepard's — Shepard's indoctrinated?" Here, Tali's voice broke, with unspoken implications, and, before Garrus could even open his mouth to protest, she hurried to explain. "You know it's not pure coincidence," she whispered, earnestly, and Garrus was uncomfortably reminded of Saren. "His cybernetics, the geth, the genophage . . . and I'm not the only one who's noticed the similarities. The extranet has, too. So, please, don't tell me that it hasn't crossed your mind once or twice."

As he stared at her, Garrus's mandibles twitched, remorsefully. A silent confirmation.

Inexplicably, her voice softened. "Couldn't he be at risk?" she asked, finally. "That is, if he . . . if he isn't already. . . ."

Garrus scowled. "That's not going to happen," he growled, forcefully, sounding more confident than he actually felt. "Shepard's _not _Saren, no matter what the media might say. He knows better." Briefly, Garrus paused. "And I like to think that we'd be able to tell if he was indoctrinated or not," he finished, quietly.

"I'm sorry," said Tali, suddenly. "That was uncalled for. I'm just . . . Keelah, I _love_ him, Garrus. Truth is, I'm afraid of so many different scenarios. I'm afraid that this war will end horribly, for all of us, that he'll be indoctrinated, and. . . ."

She paused, then, and looked away. "I just want him to be happy once all of this is over," she admitted. "If this is _ever_ over. He . . . deserves that much, don't you think?"

To that, Garrus chuckled, halfheartedly. "I think we _all_ deserve a little bit of happiness when this war's over," he joked. "Especially after the hell we've been through."

With an imperceptible smile, she nodded. "You're right," she said. "I—"

Whatever Tali was about to say, however, was quickly forgotten when more static filled their ear-pieces. Tali abruptly turned away from him, fumbling once again with the controls of her ear-piece, and Garrus turned around to give the facility another once-over. Just in case.

_"Keelah, something's happening to the geth!"_ exclaimed Raan, audibly stunned. _"Their fighter squadrons have . . . stopped. We can detect no more active programs within their ships. Admiral Han'Gerrel's fleet is driving them back. The live-ships are safe, Commander."_

Though she spoke matter-of-factly, Garrus could discern a hint of relief within Raan's voice. Unfortunately, she chose not to address Tali, but Shepard, which, again, annoyed Garrus, even if Shepard was, technically, the CO of their mission.

Seconds ticked by, and Tali didn't respond. Truth be told, she didn't really need to.

By the time Raan's voice drifted off, and their frequency returned to silence, Tali still hadn't uttered a single word. She simply stared at Shepard, puzzled. And Garrus, true to form, shamelessly joined her in staring.

"Spirits, he did it," Garrus murmured. It just . . . didn't seem possible.

Tali sounded as equally amazed. "Yes . . . He did."

Garrus inwardly conceded that they shouldn't be surprised. Time and time again, Shepard has shown himself capable of accomplishing the impossible. For whatever reason, however, this mission simply felt different. But, different in what way, Garrus couldn't say.

Now, with the geth finally dealt with, Garrus knew that he might not have much time before Shepard woke up. So, he quickly closed the distance that remained between them, and touched Tali's arm. She appeared surprised by his sudden movement.

"Tali, listen to me," he whispered, urgently. "We're going to be fine, okay? You have to believe in that, if nothing else."

As if to emphasize the importance of that belief, he nodded to himself, solemnly. She had to believe it, if she wanted to live, because Garrus knew the stratagems of warfare reasonably well. One of the most successful strategies he'd found, after all, was to deplete any hope of victory that his enemies might have. With that accomplished, they'd lose the will to fight, fearing another loss, and that self-same fear would then become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

He absolutely _refused_ to let that happen to Tali. She was, quite possibly, the brightest person that he'd ever met, and he didn't want her to end up a pessimist, like him.

Tali nodded, reluctantly. Before she could even wrap her mind around a proper response, however, Legion's contrivance began to open, ominously accompanied by the ever-present sound of hydraulics, and, by the time it had fully opened, Shepard was already in the process of climbing out, with his hands clasped tightly around his head. Other than that, he certainly looked no worse for wear. Garrus released Tali, and instinctively clenched his rifle, preparing himself for the unpleasant scenario in which Shepard wasn't entirely himself.

In retrospect, he needn't have worried. But with all that talk of indoctrination. . . .

"Owww . . ." muttered Shepard to himself, smiling slightly, before directing his eyes to Tali. "Remind me to . . . uh, _never_ do that again. My head feels like I just tried to kiss a freight train. . . ."

Thus, satisfied with her lover's identity, Tali promptly threw herself at him, wrapping him in a heartfelt embrace. "Shepard," she breathed into his shoulder, audibly relieved, "are you okay?"

Shepard chuckled, weakly, and returned the embrace wholeheartedly. "Fine, I'm fine," he murmured, quickly. Then, he asked, curiously, "Did it work?"

As Shepard embraced Tali, finding comfort in her nearness, he inadvertently let his guard down, and, in that singular moment, Garrus saw past Shepard's well-crafted façade, and saw not a peerless leader who smiled even in the face of certain death, but a terrified man whose overwhelming sense of duty prevented him from giving a vorcha's ass about his own needs. The moment was interrupted, however, when Legion 'woke up,' and it was quickly discovered that he hadn't been entirely truthful, after all.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by geth primes. At first, Shepard grabbed Tali, as if to shield her from some sort of blow, and aimed his pistol at the closest prime. Tali ignored him completely, and leveled her own pistol at another, while Garrus acted, likewise, with his rifle. They waited, impatiently, for the order to open fire, and yet it never came. Instead, Shepard asked Legion _why _— an action Garrus and Tali never considered. In this way, Shepard diffused another sticky situation, despite his visible disapproval over Legion's deception.

Then, the sea of geth primes parted to reveal a path, and, as they left the facility, Garrus still refused to lower his rifle. Mutely, Shepard led the way beside Legion, and Tali followed closely behind, with Garrus bringing up the rear of their procession. No one spoke.

_Not sure how I feel about this, Shepard,_ thought Garrus, uneasily. Times like these made him wish that his species had evolved with some form of telepathy so he could let Shepard know how he felt without saying so in front of the geth.

Shepard, too, seemed to be ill at ease. He did not replace the pistol on his belt, either. "Stay close to me, Tali," he muttered, eventually.

The geth might not understand this harmless-sounding comment, but Garrus did, and he smiled knowingly, despite the circumstances. Especially when he knew how much Tali _hated_ Shepard's over-bearingly protective nature. So, it was perfectly understandable when Garrus nearly fell over in shock as Tali did _exactly_ as Shepard requested, without complaint, and shadowed him closely. Garrus silently attributed it to the fact she was surrounded by an age-old fear that had been inbred and strengthened in her people for several generations, ever since the quarians' mass exodus.

The remainder of their journey back passed uneventfully, by Garrus's standards.

By the time they passed through the Normandy's airlock, Shepard appeared to have already recovered his spirits because he was humming to himself, quietly — a quirk he usually indulged in whenever he was content. As they stepped onto the Normandy proper, a mechanical bark split the relative silence of the CIC, and Shepard's mech-dog appeared out of nowhere, sliding to an abrupt stop in front of its master. It wagged its stump of a tail enthusiastically, and a wide grin broke out on Shepard's face as he bent down to receive it.

Meanwhile, Legion didn't wait for them, but set out for the War Room immediately.

"Hey, girl," said Shepard, cheerfully, and he patted the mech-dog on its head. In response, it gleefully rolled over, onto its back, and Garrus was left wondering, once again, if it actually had some faulty wiring, or if it was simply "channeling its inner 'dog,'" as Shepard claimed. Truth be told, Garrus still wasn't entirely sure what a 'dog' was. He had always assumed that it was something like a varren.

Shepard's grin widened. "Did you miss me, Chewy?" he asked, somewhat ridiculously, and began to scratch the mech-dog's belly, ardently continuing the bizarre ritual.

Tali shot Garrus an inquiring look over Shepard's head, and Garrus shrugged in return, helplessly. He didn't understand it, either. But this was the first time the mech-dog had left the hangar since the Normandy first joined the Migrant Fleet, and she was wondering about Shepard and their newest addition.

Behind Shepard, Joker was watching the entire occurrence with tight-lipped, grim-faced fascination. As Chewy happily began to scamper in circles, seemingly in pursuit of its own tail, he snorted, jealously. Shepard looked up and threw him a toothy grin.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Joker," Shepard grinned.

Again, Joker snorted. "Yeah. Whatever," he muttered.

"That's it?" Shepard asked, teasingly. "No witty remarks? Why so serious, Joker?"

In response to that final barb, Joker grinned, too, and fell into their old ways of bickering back and forth.

"Serious?" Joker repeated, incredulously. "Fine, I'll tell you what's serious: your pampering of that pooch! I swear, you treat it better than you do me, Shepard, and I'm your helmsman." He shook his head, and feinted hurt. "Besides, I thought you were a varren person."

At that, Shepard burst into laughter. Neither Garrus nor Tali knew what was so funny, exactly, but, for the first time in a long time, it was a real laugh, it was contagious, and it was enough.

For Garrus, one thing was certain: It sure was great to have Tali back, and the original Normandy crew together again. Except for Wrex and Ashley, of course.

Eventually, each member of the trio left, and went to their respective stations. As he settled into daily routine, once again, Garrus returned to the main battery and began to re-calibrate the thanix cannon. While it was a necessary occupation, it was also a mindless one, and it allowed his mind to wander freely.

Unfortunately, that was more of a curse than a blessing, sometimes. Like right now.

Inexplicably, he found himself considering Shepard's vulnerable expression.

It was eerily similar to the scarred face that Garrus saw in the mirror every day, but hid from the galaxy because, damn it, he has his dignity. He's terrified, too, but he's not about to let everyone know that. After all, if he pretends to think that they have a chance against the Reapers, then maybe he'll start believing it, too. So far, the crew of the Normandy has been nothing but optimistic about their odds, living behind their brave faces in their day-to-day activities because they know that they're the galaxy's last, best hope for survival, but there have been those moments when their masks have slipped. Garrus himself has had many of these moments lately. If anyone noticed his moment of weakness, however, they chose not to say anything about it. Everyone but Shepard, it seemed, who, Garrus knew, was lying through his teeth in order to preserve morale.

Still, Garrus could appreciate the sentiment. He wanted to believe that Shepard was right; that everything was going to turn out all right, in the end.

At this point, everybody was terrified, including Shepard. Especially Shepard. He was no fool, after all; he knew that this entire conflict rested squarely upon his shoulders. There was no room for error, and Garrus admired his resolve. Never once did he waver or hesitate. And that only encouraged Garrus to do anything and everything for his friend, if only to lessen his burden. He owed him that much, at least.

As for Garrus himself, he came into this galaxy, kicking and screaming, and, if he had his way, then he'd leave it in the same fashion. He had a feeling that, before this war was well and truly over, they were going to be forced into a vicious fight for their lives, and they'd fight like cornered varren for every inch.

After all, Garrus was a pessimist by nature. He always expected the worst to occur because, then, there was always a chance that he'd be pleasantly surprised. But, now — Now, he doesn't quite know if anyone else remembers the broken girl he dropped off with the Migrant Fleet years ago . . . He knew, though. He still remembered. And he can't help but wonder, if that's how disconsolate she was then, how disconsolate will Tali be if she loses him again, after Shepard's let her in and gotten close? It's a thought capable of freezing his heart solid.

Garrus knew the score well. He knew that such stories usually end in heartache; that happily-ever-afters are nothing more than fantastical pipe dreams. They usually are, at least, for him. So, he's painfully aware of the fact that the odds are stacked against them; that the Reapers will probably win, that everyone will die horribly and go the way of the Protheans. As all good things must end, eventually, so, too, will Shepard, and Tali, and even himself. But that doesn't mean he won't try; it won't keep him from hoping for a better future.

Inexplicably, Garrus wished that he'd be wrong about all of this. That Tali wouldn't lose Shepard in the end, though he's dying, slowly. He's . . . drowning in all of these difficult decisions.

It's . . . strange. Never before has Garrus wanted to be wrong so fiercely. But then again, never before has he had so much incentive.

Tali was right, he reflected; Shepard deserved to be happy, once all of this was over.

Now, he was determined to give Shepard his happily-ever-after.

* * *

_Frankly, I'm surprised you even read this far. Seriously, 8,600 words for one freakin' conversation? Who in their right mind does that? That is, besides me? Nonetheless, I applaud you, dear reader. Excellent work!_

_Now, onto Rannoch proper and the better bits of Mass Effect 3! Huzzah! But first, the next chapter will have a (small?) flash-back in it that should establish what happened to Shepard's father in this fic. So, stay tuned._

**_Acknowledgements :_**

**_1. Overlord Moo : _**_Abandoned? Of course not. For this story, I have twenty or so chapters planned out, and, of these, I probably have 40% of it already written. If I abandoned it now, all of those files would go to waste on my laptop. So, if I'm late in updating, my friend, just chalk it up to mechanical issues. Anyway, I wanted to include this mission because I feel like it was a unique break from normal routine in ME3, and that very few fics recognize it. Also, it's something Commander Shepard has never faced before, and I like to think that every Shepard, whether Paragon or Renegade, had some lingering fears before they entered the geth server. So, it was a wonderful opportunity overall to explore some of Shepard's fears and develop his character at the same time, making him more sympathetic and human in the process. As to your desire to see this monstrosity... No. You really, really don't. I wouldn't be surprised if trying to read it caused your eyeballs to catch on fire. Or worse, explode... But I digress. Fine! Fine. Seems like people really were disappointed in my lack of Gerrel's beating (which my Shep didn't do, by the way), but I now have a (somewhat?) clever idea how to make it up to everyone. Heh. _

**_2. Tom80 BSN : _**_So, you want to see Raan interrupt Shepard and Tali's little scene after Shepard takes down the Reaper on Rannoch and Legion sacrifices himself? Is that correct? Hmmm. It's an excellent idea, my friend, but I don't know if I can pull that one off. As it is, I already have something special planned for that scene (I, uh, don't really want Raan to interrupt it, if you know what I mean), another expansion of sorts, and I honestly don't think Raan would actually view Shepard and Tali's relationship kindly, if ever she found out about it. I imagine that it would be difficult for her to ignore 300 years' worth of racism (which I think would lead to quarians viewing all other alien species with outright suspicion, including humans) and also the fact that such an unusual relationship would be a terrible health-risk for Tali. All in all, I don't really think she'd approve. Do you have any other suggestions? Maybe you'd like to see some other Shepard/Tali scene expanded upon? _

**_3. TW6464 : _**_Ah, well. Fancy. Lucky you. I myself am currently attending university. Where, I can't say because it's classified information, I'm afraid. Don't want the FBI comin' after me for, I dunno, plagiarism, maybe._

**_4. Kalska : _**_Well, thank you! I am, as ever, honored that you like my story thus far, and your review certainly encourages me to keep up with my grammar and spelling since I beta it myself. _

**_5. BassMaster : _**_Thank you, sir/madam!_

**_6. timbryanscott : _**_Thank you so much, my friend! I wouldn't dream of abandoning my fic now. 40% of future chapters have already been written, and are currently floating around on my laptop. If I discontinued this fic, all of that hard work would go to waste. Seems to be a lot of reviewers are like you, and want more character development, so I guess I'll just do that, then. __ You know, I'm glad that I have more time for writing, too... People actually seem to enjoy the rubbish I post on here. __  
_

_**7. Lord Jace :** Thank you! Yeah, I don't think I can take screenshots with my ps3, so I opted for the crappy-quality alternative. I'm pretty happy with Shepard's facial code, and it works on ME2 as well, although you'd have to give him a new hair style because his ME3 one isn't included in ME2... Now, is this the part where we bump fists and scream, "Talimancers, unite!"?_


End file.
